


Disenchanted

by Antoinette95



Category: Naruto
Genre: Adoption, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Sex, Bottom Umino Iruka, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Escort Service, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Foster Care, Hatake Kakashi Being an Asshole, Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions, M/M, Multi, Mutual Masturbation, Panic Attacks, Parent-Child Relationship, Past Violence, Slow Build, Top Hatake Kakashi, Uzumaki Naruto Being an Idiot, adorable uzumaki naruto, businessman kakashi, escort iruka
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-20
Updated: 2018-08-01
Packaged: 2018-12-04 19:58:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 8
Words: 26,937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11562270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Antoinette95/pseuds/Antoinette95
Summary: Iruka Umino would do anything for his adopted brother, even if that means giving up his dream of being a teacher to care for him. Now working as an escort, he meets aloof business man Kakashi Hatake, and grudgingly finds himself attracted to him. Kakashi just wants to forget his dead lover, and isn't interested in the brunette his friends hired to escort him for a night. But after their "date" ends in disaster, both men find themselves unable, and unwilling to stay away from the other.





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys! So this story is meant to replace Silhouette which some of you may have read. ( If you already know why I took that one down, please don't talk about it here.) Anyway, this was going to be the very next fic I wrote for the Naruto fandom, but I figured I might as well post it now. hope you enjoy it! :3 
> 
> PS: unbeta-ed, and I do not own the Naruto characters!

    It was raining when Iruka awoke, legs tangled in his bedsheets and hands clenching tightly at the thin blanket at his waist. A loud clap of thunder rattled the window in its frame and a streak of lightning tore across the steel gray clouds. The wind groaned mournfully as it swept and swirled through the darkened streets. The harsh downpour, coupled with the biting chill and darkened sky, was oddly reminiscent of the anxiousness gnawing at his gut.  _An omen._ He was not a superstitious man, but a horrid and unshakable sense of foreboding was settling into his bones. Another deafening bang of thunder shook the tiny apartment, and rain pelted the windows.  

   Shivering, Iruka threw off the sweat soaked sheets and silently slipped out of bed. He winced when his bare feet touched the icy floor, and quickly padded to the bathroom. He groped the wall blindly for a moment before finding the light switch and flicking it on. The light flickered on, casting a dull yellow glow over the bathroom. Iruka took that time to inspect himself in the dingy mirror above the sink. His hair was disheveled from sleep, and apart from the obvious lack of adequate sleep, he looked healthy. Good. He couldn't afford to appear anything less than in optimal health when meeting the social worker that morning.  

    The blankets rustled behind him, followed by an incoherent grumble. Iruka hastily shut the door as quietly as he could manage, cursing silently in his head. He'd forgotten that Naruto had crawled into bed with him when he'd gotten home the previous night.  _I need to put a stop to that,_ he mused, listening for any sign that the teenager was awake. As much as Iruka loved Naruto, he detested dealing with him in the mornings. The blonde was perpetually whiny when awoken before he desired, and would complain until Iruka seriously considered gagging him. Once when he'd had an agonizing hangover, and Naruto had badgered him for a better part of an hour, he had.   

  Satisfied when he heard nothing apart from the constant thrum of the rain against the roof and windows, he padded over to the shower and turned the hot water knob as far as it would go. The pipes shuddered before water gushed freely from the faucet. Iruka stripped quickly and stepped under the lukewarm spray with a small, contented sigh. The tension eased from his shoulders and neck. He ducked his head under the water and slid his fingers through the tangled mess, carefully working the knots out. A groan worked its way up his throat as he massaged his scalp, paying extra special attention to the nape of his neck and temples. It slipped unbiddenly from his lips, breathy and sinful. A blush ran up his neck, and his hands stilled in his hair. He strained to listen over his shower and the rain for Naruto's snores. After a minute, he heard a faint snuffle, and released a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.  

   Iruka shook his head and rinsed the conditioner from his hair. The water had cooled considerably by then, raising goosebumps on his tanned skin. He bit back another curse and began scrubbing at his skin, until it was tender and clean. The water had become unbearably cold by the time he'd deemed himself clean, and his teeth chattered when he stepped onto the linoleum floor. He wrapped a thick towel around his waist and another around his hair, tiny shivers wracking his body. The sooner he was properly dressed, the better.  

    He stepped out of the bathroom and crossed over to his closet as quietly as he could manage. The storm had eased to a dull drizzle. On the bed, Naruto huffed and clutched a pillow closer to his chest, drool dripping onto the comforter. Rolling his eyes, Iruka pulled on his clothes, throwing the towel into the laundry basket beside the dresser. He unraveled the towel around his hair and ran a brush through it. Naruto continued to snore obnoxiously behind him, mumbling under his breath every few minutes. More than once, Iruka swore he heard the teen snicker, yet every time he glanced back the boy was snoozing. When his hair was pulled up into a tight ponytail, he walked over to the boy, arms crossed over his chest.  

“How long are you going to pretend like you’re still sleeping Naruto?” the brunette asked, poking hard at the blonde lump.  

   The teen groaned and batted at his hand. “Ahh, Iruka knock it off!” he griped. His crystal blue eyes blinked sleepily up at him. “What’s the big idea, huh? Can’t a guy get a little beauty sleep around here?”  

   Iruka raised an eyebrow and thumped the boy between his eyes. “You could if you were actually  _asleep,_ ” he chided with a small smirk. 

  Naruto pouted and shoved a pillow over his head. “You are always so mean to me, Iruka!” he moaned melodramatically. “After all we’ve been through-” 

    Iruka whacked him on the head with a chuckle. “Yes, yes, I am so horrible to you Naruto! I feed you, and let you  _snore_ in my freaking ear every night!” Iruka snatched the pillow from the blonde’s hands and began to mercilessly pummel him with it. “I should be arrested for child abuse! I’m so horrible!”  

    “Ah! No! Stop!” Naruto howled. “I take it back! You’re great! Awesome! The best in the world!” He flailed and rolled out of the bed, landing with a thud onto the floor.  

   Iruka doubled over laughing, clutching at his sides. “And don’t you forget it, you little brat!” he chortled. “I’ll go and make some breakfast. Do you want anything in particular?”  

   Naruto pulled himself up from the floor, pouting. "I'm not really hungry. I'll just make a bowl of..." He quailed under Iruka's disapproving glare. "Actually, I think I'd like some French toast," he amended quickly.  

   "Great!" Iruka laughed, beaming widely at him. "I'll get that cooking while you shower and dress. We have to meet with your new case worker in two hours, so don't take forever."  

   Irritation flickered in the blonde's eyes. "Why do we even need a case worker? I've been living with you for almost a year." 

  Iruka frowned knowingly. "I know it's frustrating, but it's unavoidable. The state has protocols to follow, which includes making sure I meet the criteria to-" 

   "But I'm happy with you. Isn't that enough?" Naruto demanded angrily. His stare stabbed into Iruka as if the man held all the answers. At times like this, he wished he did. 

    _I wish it was,_ Iruka thought, throat constricting. In a perfect world, his love for Naruto would be more than enough for the state to declare him the boy's official guardian. They'd never have to plead their case before a seasoned, unsympathetic judge, or have every facet of their life scrutinized by well-meaning strangers. Naruto could be safe, and happy, free to be a child and enjoy his life. Then again, in a perfect world, the boy's parents would still be alive.   

  "Come on, go get showered," he urged, clearing his throat. "I'll go get breakfast on." He hurriedly escaped the room then, before Naruto could accost him further.  

   He mechanically rummaged through the kitchen for ingredients, pushing back the deprecating thoughts that’d begun stirring in the recesses of his mind. They taunted him with his failures, and teased him with his shortcomings. He could barely care for his own needs, let alone a fourteen-year-old boy with moderate behavior issues. Even when working two jobs, he struggled to scrape just enough money together to pay for their shithole of an apartment in one of the seediest districts in the city. His car worked intermittently during the summer and stopped completely during the winter. The clothes he managed to buy for Naruto were always hand me down and grossly outdated. The truth, or rather his biggest fear, was that despite his best efforts he could never be everything Naruto needed.  

    Iruka shook his head to clear it and focused on the task at hand. He had to steel himself and put on a brave, confident face if he were going to convince anyone that he could be an adequate guardian for Naruto. They hadn’t even met the new social worker yet! For all he knew, the man or woman could be more reasonable and compassionate than their previous case worker. If all went well, their first impression of him would overwrite any information they’d gathered in the past year. At least, he hoped it would. 

   Naruto came bounding into the kitchen a few minutes later, blonde hair dripping water onto his clothes and the floor. Iruka clucked his tongue at him disapprovingly and whacked him on forehead with his spatula.  

   “You’re cleaning that up!” he warned sternly, earning an easy grin from the boy.  

   “Sure, sure,” Naruto agreed, plucking a slice of bacon from the tray beside Iruka. “Right after breakfast.” 

     Iruka shook the spatula threateningly. “I mean it, brat!” He slid two pieces of French toast onto a plate and shoved it into the teen’s waiting hands, shooing him to the table.  

    The blonde boy ignored him, attention riveted on the food before him. His tongue darted out to comically lick his lips as he tucked into his breakfast. He moaned melodramatically around the first bite, and speared Iruka with his large blue eyes again. “Please marry me,” he said seriously.  

   Iruka rolled his eyes and joined him at the table. “Sorry, but I’m not into blondes.”  

  “What? Why not?!” Naruto pouted, shoving another forkful of toast into his mouth.  

   The brunette smirked. “They just don’t do it for me,” he teased, unthinkingly. He regretted the words as soon as they left his lips, but it was too late to take them back. 

  “They don’t do what for you?” he asked uncertainly. The teen cocked his head to the side and scratched at his hair for a moment. His brows furrowed and his nose scrunched up in concentration. It was an absurdly cute habit the teen hadn’t, and probably wouldn’t ever, outgrow.  

   Iruka hastily shoveled food into his mouth in lieu of answering, brain frantically working to find a new subject. There was no way in Hell he was going to have  _that_ conversation with Naruto. Not now at least. He’d sooner parade around the city naked than give him “the talk”. “So, uh, how are things with Sasuke?” he stammered, forcefully swallowing his food.  

    That seemed to have the desired effect. Naruto’s expression soured and he launched into a tirade about his classmate. The words “idiot” and “jerk” were hurled quite a bit, and by the time they’d finished breakfast, Iruka’s highly inappropriate comment had been forgotten. He browbeat Naruto into changing out of his ratty jeans and into something more presentable while he cleaned the dishes. When he returned, he’d switched topics again, this time about another classmate.  

  “So Shikamaru invited me to a sleepover this weekend. I told him I’d ask, but that was more to be courteous than anything,” Naruto said offhandedly, feigning disinterest. Iruka bit back a smirk, easily seeing through him. The boy’s pale fingers fidgeted around the straps of his backpack, and he nibbled on his bottom lip. His impossibly large eyes wouldn’t meet Iruka’s gaze.  

    Iruka pretended to think about it as he scrubbed their plates. The silence stretched between them and Naruto began shuffling his feet uneasily, growing more impatient by the minute. Finally, after Iruka’d finished the last dish, he burst, “Please can I go? I’ll do the dishes every night this week. And I’ll do my homework! Promise!” 

    “You should do your homework regardless!” Iruka thundered before pulling Naruto into a headlock. He briskly ran his fist through the blonde strands until Naruto was squealing for release. He let him go without a fight, chuckling. “Tell you what, if you take out the garbage this week you can go. Deal?” 

      Naruto nodded enthusiastically. “Awesome! I mean,” he corrected, feigning nonchalance again, “thanks I’ll let him know.”  

    Iruka shook his head and ushered the boy to the front door. “Let’s go before we’re late.”  

* * *

 

 “-and Iruka is the best at cooking! He makes all my favorite food, especially pork ramen!” Naruto chattered, arms waving excitedly about his head.  

    The social worker, Shizune, smiled warmly at him. “That’s great Naruto! Is there anything else you’d like to tell me about Iruka?” she asked conversationally.  

  Iruka groaned internally, wishing that the woman would stop encouraging the blonde boy. Naruto had spent the better part of fifteen minutes prattling on about how “great” and “cool” Iruka was on her insistence. The woman had written every word down in a tidy scrawl, expression open and inquisitive. Meanwhile, Iruka hadn’t been able to get a word in, and had been left to stew in his thoughts. What could she be making of this?  

    “He doesn’t like blondes,” Naruto chirped, pouting. “He told me this morning that they-” 

    “Hey, isn’t that your friend Sakura? You should go say hello!” Iruka interjected quickly, cheeks flushing in embarrassment.  _Damn brat._ He gently shoved at him until Naruto stood, eyebrow quirked questioningly.  

     “Sure, I guess,” he shrugged. He waved kindly to Shizune before flouncing over to join his classmate, who looked slightly annoyed to see him.  

     “He’s really attached to you,” Shizune noted when he’d gotten out of earshot. Her doe like onyx eyes fixed on his face, carefully assessing him. “What is his relationship to you, exactly?” 

     Iruka was slightly taken aback by the question. “He’s my adopted brother.” Hadn’t she read the file beforehand? That information was in there, or it should have been.  

    As if reading his mind, she pulled a manila envelope from her messenger bag and riffled through it. “He was adopted by your adopted father Hiruzen Sarutobi when you were sixteen, correct?” she asked when she found what she was looking for. She scanned the paper quickly before continuing. “Naruto was only six at the time. His parents killed while on a call?” 

     The brunette swallowed dryly and nodded stiffly. “My father was a close friend and mentor to Naruto’s father. He didn’t want Naruto to go into the system.” 

   Shizune hummed thoughtfully at that. “And I assume he was close to your parents as well? You weren’t much older than Naruto when Hiruzen adopted you.” 

    “He wasn’t close to my parents,” Iruka admitted quietly, looking down at his hands. “His son was my tutor at the time, so I was over at their house often.”  

     “You mean Asuma? It notes that he was in your father’s house the night of the fire last year, but he survived. Where is he now?” she pressed unrelentingly.  

      Iruka swallowed thickly. Had it only been a year? It felt like an eternity. “He’s in a coma.” The words stuck in his dry throat, and his heart clenched painfully. Asuma would have been fine had he not gone back in the burning building to rescue Naruto. Hiruzen had already succumbed to the flames by then.  

    Shizune reached out and squeezed his hand reassuringly. “I didn’t mean to upset you,” she whispered softly, “I just wanted to verify the information I had here.” She pulled away and tucked the envelope away. “Now, let’s get to the business at hand.” She offered a comforting smile and pulled her notebook closer. “How about you tell me a little about yourself. I don’t have anything on file about your education or recent work history.”  

    Iruka steeled himself and met her gaze steadily. “I was in my junior year of college when the fire happened. I’d already been living on my own and supporting myself by then too.” 

   “Where did you work?” she asked, scribbling something onto her pad. “And what were you in school for?” 

    “I worked at a friend’s bakery. I still pick up shifts there on the weekends and when Naruto is in class,” Iruka supplied. “I’ve always wanted to do something in education, maybe working with children with special needs. I was getting my certification when…” he cleared his throat loudly “…anyway, I gave that up after the fire. Naruto needed me.” 

     The raven-haired woman hummed thoughtfully to herself. “And you support the two of you just from the bakery?” she questioned skeptically.  

   He shook his head, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. He’d hoped that the woman wouldn't ask him about his other source of income, at least not during the first meeting. "I-I work for an escort service," he whispered hesitantly. Shame pooled low and hot in his gut. Escorting, while not illegal, was unfavorable to most conservatives. Many still considered them prostitutes, and while there were professional sex workers within the industry, the majority of escorts did not perform sexual favors. Iruka fell into the latter population.  

   Something unreadable flickered in her eyes at that, and she pushed her notebook away. "I see." Shizune leaned back in her chair and studied him pensively. She rhythmically drummed her fingers on the table, her stare unnervingly blank. After a minute, she exhaled deeply and leaned forward, hands clasped together on the table.  

     "I'm going to be honest with you, Mr. Umino," she said candidly, expression neutral and businesslike. "It's apparent to me from this meeting and notes from your previous social worker, that you love Naruto. That's always a good first step. But I am concerned. You are still fairly young yourself, and caring for a teenager can be a burden in some cases. Perhaps you should consider-" 

     "Naruto is not a burden," Iruka bit out immediately. "I made the decision to leave school and take him in of my own free will. No one asked me."  

   Shizune drew up short at that, surprised. "I apologize; I misspoke. What I meant was, there are options available to the both of you. Naruto could temporarily be placed in a group home while you finish your education, if you so choose. You would still technically have some parental rights, but the state would handle his room and other needs." 

    Iruka bit his bottom lip, pulse quickening. "Do-do you think that would be better for him?" He stammered dryly. 

    "Honestly?" She prompted. Iruka nodded. "I don't personally believe that it would benefit Naruto. By my standards he is in a safe and loving household, and that's more than I can say about my other cases." She smiled wanly at him across the table. "But," she continued seriously, gaze sharpening, "it's not my standards that you have to adhere to. I can only offer my observation and opinion. Ultimately a judge will make the final decision. I can't guarantee that they will approve of your career choice, either. He could pass judgement on that fact alone." 

   His throat constricted at that. He'd always known that his job could potentially cause problems with getting custody of Naruto, but that didn't make it any easier to find work that paid well enough to support them. At least with escorting and the bakery he was guaranteed a decent paycheck every month. But would a judge really take Naruto away because he didn't like his job?  

    Sensing his fear, Shizune leaned forward and gripped his hand tightly. "Listen," she murmured, "we can't do anything about the judge's opinion of your job, but we can overshadow that with other facts. If you can demonstrate beyond a shadow of a doubt that Naruto's health and safety is not in question, they can grant you guardianship on the condition that you meet with me at least twice a year. As long as my reports don't say anything to the contrary, he can't be removed from your home." 

    Iruka blinked back the stinging in his eyes, nodding fervently. "Thank you," he croaked.  

    "No problem," she replied gently, pulling away. "Contrary to popular belief, my job isn't to separate families. I leave that to my colleagues." Shizune pushed back her chair and stood, slinging her bag over her shoulder. "I'm going to go put this report in at the office. Let's schedule to meet in a month and establish a plan for your case."  

   Iruka furrowed his brow. "Isn't that what this meeting was supposed to be about?" 

   Shizune chuckled wryly. "Nope!" She said brightly. "This was just my way of deciding if you'd be worth my effort. So, I'd like you and Naruto to come to my office in a month. I'll call you when I have a good idea of what my caseload will be like for the next month."  

   Iruka nodded and stood to shake her hand. "Thanks again," he said sincerely.  

   "Thank you for confirming what I already thought." She dropped her hand and strode from the diner.  

   No sooner had she gone, then Naruto appeared beside him, bright eyed and curious. "So? Did she like you? Can I stay with you?" 

    Iruka crushed Naruto to him, burying his nose in the blonde's hair. "Yeah," he breathed, "I think so."

   

  

      

     

     

      

    

 

    


	2. Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HI guys! I'm back again a little early! :) This chapter is shorter than the last, but just as good in my opinion. (Don't worry, the next one will be longer. Scout's honor.)  
> Warnings:  
> -alcoholism (mentions)  
> -panic attacks

    _I need a fucking vacation,_ Kakashithought bitterly, slamming his office door behind him. The consultation, if you could even call it that, had lasted more than an hour and hadn't yielded any satisfactory results. The client's representative had been pityingly arrogant and stubborn, insisting that the firm's products were overpriced for a simple security system. Tenzou had been patient and more willing to reason with him than Kakashi cared to. If Drier's Financial Services wanted their system hacked, so be it.  

     _Maybe I should take the next few days off,_ he mused, knowing damn well that he wouldn't. Tsunade wouldn't hesitate to approve the holiday if it meant she could ban him from working for a week. Sighing,he booted up his computer and pulled up the half-finished consultation report. Most of it was internal notes indicating the weak points in Drier's current security package, and their proposed plan of action.  _So much for that._ He roughly massaged his temples with a low groan and began hammering out the details of the interview and contract, his fingers flying across the keyboard. After a few minutes, the words and letters began to jumble together, and his eyes stung from dryness. He paused and irritably rubbed at them. He switched off the screen and slumped over his desk, burying his face in his arms.  _A quick nap couldn’t hurt_ , he thought, eyelids drooping.  

  A sharp knock roused him seemingly seconds later, just as he'd begun to drift. He glanced bleary eyed at the clock on his desk, and cursed softly under his breath. Ten minutes had passed; not nearly enough time to stave off the pounding in his head, but enough for someone to come hunting him down for something or other. Grumbling, he pushed to his feet and briskly strode to the door, throwing it open.  

  Tenzou stood just on the other side, hand poised to knock again. His dark brown eyes swept worriedly over Kakashi’s slightly haggard appearance, narrowing slightly. He dropped his hand to his side and cleared his throat. “Tsunade asked me to check on you,” he said lamely.  

    Kakashi resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “Is that all then?” he drawled, voice still husky from sleep. He swallowed the grit in his throat and leaned against the doorjamb. “Surely you have better things to do?” 

    He shrugged. “I don't have another consultation until four, so she has me running errands around the building.”  

    "You could always say no," Kakashi pointed out, smirking.  

     Tenzou snorted. "Have  _you_ ever tried saying no to that woman? You'd have better luck convincing Gai to wear something other than spandex." 

    Both men cringed. For reasons unknown to literally everyone, the man had an obsession with green spandex and martial arts. "I'll take my chances with Tsunade," Kakashi deadpanned.  Gai, bless him, was one of Kakashi's closest friends, and was therefore more than capable of driving him insane.  

   "Better you than me," the other man surrendered, chuckling dryly. "Then again, you may get away with it. You are her favorite." 

   Kakashi rolled his eyes. He'd heard the accusation a million times from the others, jokingly of course, and it never failed to amuse him. "Yeah, that's why she yells at me and threatens to kick my ass every other day." 

    "Hey, I never said your relationship makes sense!" Tenzou laughed. "But she does care about you," he added soberly.  

   The silver haired man didn't miss the hidden meaning behind the words and averted his eyes. "I'm fine," he said, straightening. 

    The shorter man scowled at him, brown eyes boring holes into the side of his head. "Oh yeah?" He challenged. "Because Raido and Genma had to drag you from the bar last night, according to Anko. Does that sound  _fine_ to you?" 

    "That isn't any of your or Anko's business," Kakashi snapped coldly.  _Damn it all._ He'd briefly wondered why he'd awoken on his couch rather than his bed that morning, but hadn't given it much thought when he realized he was late for work. He didn't think he'd drank that much the previous night. "I was unwinding. The board meeting yesterday morning was stressful." 

   "So, what's your excuse for two days ago?" Tenzou retorted hotly. "Or last week? Or hell,  _two_   _hours_ ago when I found you hungover in the parking garage?!" He paused, roughly carding his hand through his short cropped brown hair. “It’s like you aren’t even  _trying_ to hide it anymore. Tsunade agrees-” 

    “Oh great, so now the lot of you are talking behind my back," Kakashi spat venomously, fists clenching at his sides. Anger swelled hot in his chest, and for a brief second, he entertained the thought of punching his best friend in his jaw. Intuitively he knew that his friends meant well, worrying over him, but it bothered him that his habits were apparently a frequent topic of discussion amongst them. He was well aware of his shortcomings, and didn’t need anyone else throwing them back in his face. 

      Tenzou scowled at him. “We’re trying to help you,” he growled back. “Obito wouldn’t want-” 

     “ _Don’t,_ ” Kakashi choked out through gritted teeth. The anger left as quickly as it’d come, replaced by cold grief. As always, the mention of his childhood friend and lover made his breath still in his lungs. His heart thudded noisily against his ribs. His palms grew sweaty. His left eye, and the scar that ran from his hairline to the corner of his mouth, ached. “Don’t talk about him,” he whispered brokenly.  

   Tenzou opened his mouth to respond, apology on his lips, but Kakashi was more than done with the conversation. He stepped back into his office and closed the door without a word. He numbly twisted the lock, ignoring the other man’s desperate knocking. Kakashi sank to the floor, back pressed firmly against the door.He buried his face in his hands and pressed the heel of his hands into his eyes until iridescent shapes danced behind his lids.  _You need to be better._ He knew that, and yet for reasons he couldn’t explain to Tenzou or anyone else, he  _couldn’t_ be better. They didn’t and wouldn’t understand the demons that sat at his bedside, leering at him because  _he’d_ survived and Obito hadn’t. Obito who they hadn’t even looked for until after Kakashi had awoken hours later asking for him, and by then it’d been too late. And it had all been Kakashi’s fault. 

    Kakashi didn’t know how long he sat on the floor before the memories and pain became all too consuming. He didn’t remember numbly climbing to his feet and grabbing his keys and jacket, or storming from his office. Faces jumbled past, blurred and indistinguishable from one another. And then he was sliding into the driver’s seat of his car, fingers curled around the steering wheel. His knuckles were white. His vision grayed, and his headache returned full force.  _I have to get out of here._ The car purred to life beneath him _._ His hand dropped to the gear shift, shaking uncontrollably. Trembling, Kakashi took the key from the ignition and pressed his forehead against the wheel. He couldn’t drive in his current state; he’d kill himself or someone else. Again. His breaths came in rapid and shallow, each intake of air stabbing into him. Black spots danced in his vision and his ears rang shrilly. Panic embraced him. He laughed, voice broken and manic.  _Pathetic._ The word echoed in his mind, repeating itself at shriller intervals.  _Pathetic._  

     The minutes stretched with Kakashi bent over the wheel, trying to collect himself. He dry heaved, only just managing to keep the contents of his stomach down. Pain and guilt perched on his muscular shoulders, hands running through his silver hair, cooing a mournful tune.  _I’m so sorry, Obito._ Kakashi exhaled slowly and lifted his head, aware of the moisture staining his cheeks and stinging his eyes. His breathing slowed. His vision cleared. The panic reluctantly pulled away, and just as quickly as it’d taken hold of him, the attack passed. His body still shook slightly, though the tremors were more controlled than before. Exhaustion settled in his bones. He glanced at himself in the rearview mirror, unsurprised by his ashen pallor and empty gray eyes.  

    “Pathetic.” 

 

       

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So my inspiration for this chapter came in part from watching and reading Kakashi Hiden. I'm going to try to do my best to translate the mental and emotional trauma he experienced and his development after in a dignified manner. (Trust me, it's hard to write Kakashi so broken. I love him so much. Ugh!)
> 
> Anyway, hope you guy's enjoyed it and the next chapter will be up soon! Thanks for all the comments and kudos! :3


	3. Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey again! Woo, I am on a roll here getting these chapters out! There aren't really any warnings for this chapter other than mentions of self harm and alcoholism, but I 'm just gonna say it as a precaution.  
>  Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy the story! :3

**_“Don’t!”_** The word had cracked out like a whip, swift and sudden. Anguish and desperation clung to that one syllable. It echoed loudly and incessantly in Tenzou’s tortured mind. **_“Don’t talk about him.”_** Outrage had bled freely from stone gray irises; an overwhelming, tortured misery took its place. The man had imploded and broke uttering the single sentence.

   _Fuck,_ Tenzou ducked his head over the sink and splashed water over his face. The last time Kakashi had looked so bereft and agonized had been on Obito’s birthday four months prior. _What the fuck were you thinking?_ He hadn’t meant to hurt Kakashi, but he’d felt so irritated and fed up with the other man’s destructive behavior. They were all hurting. They understood his struggle better than anyone else. Grief was a cruel, seemingly inescapable Hell; but somewhere along the line Kakashi’s grief had warped into self-hatred. He _knew_ Kakashi was determined to kill himself as slowly as possible because of that misplaced hate. It frustrated him all the more that he hadn’t noticed the signs sooner.

Tenzou straightened and wiped at his face with a paper towel, hands trembling. He scowled and clenched them into white knuckled fists. He wouldn’t, _couldn’t,_ allow Kakashi to harm himself anymore. Losing one close friend had been more than enough. He’d never seriously considered the impact death could have before that day three years ago. He refused to relive the experience.

 His phone chirped in his pocket, the shrill sound grating against his ears. Tenzou quickly dug his it from his back pocket and stared blankly at Rin’s name flashing up at him innocently. Why would she be calling him so abruptly? Was something wrong with Shisui? He hurriedly punched the little receiver and pressed the phone to his ear. “Is everything alright?” he demanded, sparing any pleasantries. 

       Rin giggled lightly at the question. “Yes, everything’s fine,” she assured. “I just put Shisui down for a nap.”

     Tenzou released a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. “Jesus woman, don’t scare me like that!” he huffed, leaning against the tiled wall.

      “It’s not my fault you’re always so pessimistic,” she teased. “But I am glad to know that you worry about us.”

      “Of course I do,” he replied, mildly affronted. Things may not have worked out for them when they’d tried dating the previous year, but he held no ill will for the woman. The decision to end things had been product of circumstances, not their feelings for one another. “You and Shisui are family to everyone here.”

    “Thank you, Tenzou,” she whispered somberly. Rin cleared her throat before continuing. “How- how is Kakashi doing?”

    Tenzou sighed deeply. “He’s…not doing as well as I’d like,” he admitted roughly. “The drinking is getting worse.”

    Rin hummed sadly. “I see,” she breathed. “It’s been a while since he’s seen Shisui. I know it must be hard for Kakashi to see him, but…” she trailed off uncertainly.

    “No, I get it,” Tenzou murmured. “Shisui needs his father.” He swallowed the lump rising in his throat. “Have you spoken with him?”

   “Once, about a month ago. He took Shisui to the park for an hour.” Her voice wavered and Tenzou knew she was close to tears. “Shisui asked for him yesterday, but I couldn’t bring myself to call. I know he reminds Kakashi too much of-”

   “But Shisui is his child. He and Obito _both_ wanted a child, and _both_ went through with the procedure. I understand why you offered to foster Shisui, and I understand Kakashi’s grief, but that doesn’t negate the fact that he needs his father. ”

   Rin was silent for a moment. “I was planning on throwing a birthday party for him on Saturday evening. Do you think you could get Kakashi to be there?” she whispered finally.

   Tenzou cursed. “We have important business that evening, but I can make sure he’s there that morning.”

   “Could you stay, then?” she sniffed wetly. “I know you have work, but-”

   “Of course I will,” Tenzou blurted. “As long as one of us is there to represent the company, it should be fine.” _Tsunade is going to murder you._ The charity gala that upcoming weekend was six months’ worth of planning, and although he wasn’t technically obligated to go, he’d promised to keep an eye on Kakashi throughout the evening. _So much for that._ Maybe he could bribe Anko into taking his place.

     Tenzou heard a muffled cry on the other line, and Rin chuckled exasperatedly. “Sorry, he gets fussy sometimes,” she explained shyly. “I should go.”

     “No problem,” he replied thickly. “I’ll talk to you later Rin. I lo-” he cut himself off abruptly, throat tight. _Don’t make things harder on her._ “Goodbye,” he finished lamely.

    “Goodbye, Tenzou,” she softly murmured back. 

* * *

 

  

      His apartment was still dark and silent when he arrived, meaning Gai hadn’t returned yet. _Good._ Tenzou wasn’t quite in the mood to be harassed by the overzealous man. He stripped off his jacket and tossed it haphazardly before collapsing onto the couch, exhausted. Tenzou had spent the rest of the afternoon simultaneously worried and pissed off with Kakashi. Word had gotten back to him around four that evening that the silver haired man had been discovered passed out in his car, alcohol heavy on his breath. Tsunade had furiously ranted and yelled at the man for a good hour before ordering Genma to take him home. Kakashi had pointedly avoided his gaze, but he’d listening in stony silence as Tenzou relayed Rin’s message. He’d only nodded tersely in response before hurrying to leave. And then Tsunade had dragged him into her office to reprimand him for not babysitting Kakashi properly. It didn’t matter that he was thirty years old and more than capable of knowing right from wrong, or that Tenzou had had another consultation to do later either. So yes, by the time he’d escaped work and drove home, he was exhausted cursing his best friend profusely.

   Tenzou groaned and ran a hand through his hair. They had to do something about Kakashi before word of his behavior got back to the board of executives. Danzo in particular openly detested Kakashi, even more so after he’d supported Tsunade’s run for company director. He’d jump at any opportunity to retaliate, and unfortunately they couldn’t legally stop him. Their only hope lay with the rest of the board, but the other members were temperamental and fickle. It could be just as easy to convince them to vote Kakashi out if it came down to it, and Danzo was more than capable of doing so.

    He huffed agitatedly and buried his face in the couch cushions. “Why does Kakashi have to make everything so damn difficult?” he grumbled.

    “I take it things didn’t go well at the office, then?”

     Tenzou startled violently and tumbled to the floor in a graceless heap. Cursing, he pushed himself into a sitting position and glared at the woman grinning down at him. “What the Hell are you doing in my apartment Anko?” he demanded.

     Anko winked at him, beaming. “Oh, you know, just _sparring_ a little with Gai,” she purred lecherously. “He’s still napping back there. I just wanted a glass of water.”

   “Sparring?” Tenzou repeated stupidly before his brain processed what she’d said. Then he looked at her, _really_ looked at her, and turned beet red. Anko was wearing one of Gai’s green muscle shirts and the smallest pair of yellow panties he’d ever seen. There were defined finger shaped bruises on her left thigh, a stark contrast to her creamy ivory skin. Her neck, shoulder, and breasts were adorned with dark, deep bite marks. Her lips were still kiss swollen, and her dark purple hair was mussed and tangled. Tenzou’s eyes widened comically, his cheeks flushing deeper. _What the fuck is wrong with everyone today?!_

   Anko cackled evilly at his expression, sneering down smugly at him. “What’s the problem Tenzou? Cat got your tongue?”

    “I hate you,” he deadpanned darkly. Tenzou hoisted himself to his feet and determinedly kept his gaze above Anko’s shoulders, though doing so was difficult. He was a healthy twenty-eight year old man, she was an attractive half naked woman standing none too shyly in front of him, and his body was all too aware of that fact.

    “Are you _sure?_ ” she teased, taking a calculated step towards him. Tenzou stiffened when her chest brushed lightly against his. “Because _some_ parts of you seem to like me.” She poked at his zipper.

    Tenzou hastily backed away. _Damn harpy._ “Jesus woman, would you _stop_ molesting me every time I see you?!”  

    Anko laughed again and sank onto the couch with a contented sigh. “Okay, okay, I’ll behave.” She patted the cushion beside her. “Now sit down and tell me what happened at the office. I take it not well?”

    “That’s an understatement,” Tenzou replied, plopping beside her. He made sure to leave at least an arm’s length between them in case he’d need to escape. “I found him hung over this morning after you texted me, and when I confronted him later about it we fought.”

   The easy going smile slipped from her face. “You and Kakashi fought?” she asked disbelievingly.

   He nodded, pursing his lips. “He didn’t like that you told me about last night, or the fact that we’ve been talking about him and his…problem.”

   Her mouth twisted into a perturbed frown. “I mean I get where he’s coming from, but he honestly shouldn’t be surprised. We’re his closest friends; of course we’re going to be concerned.”

   “Yeah, but I don’t think bringing up Obito helped us any,” Tenzou admitted guiltily. “After that he locked himself in his office again. Well, at least he did until I went away. Apparently an intern found the idiot passed out in his car a little while later.” He rubbed fiercely at his temples, feeling more tired than he had been in a while. “I’m at my wits end! I mean, what can we do short of locking the idiot in rehab?”

     Anko blinked at him silently for a minute before dropping her eyes to her naked lap. She chewed on her bottom lip for a minute before answering. “Maybe there’s nothing we can do,” she began softly. “We’ve been there for each other and him since _that_ day, and we’ve supported him as best as we can. But you’re right. He’s not getting any better. Maybe he expects us to understand why he’s doing this, and resents us turning against him. It may be better for him to hear it from someone else.”

    Tenzou raised an eyebrow. “Someone else?”

    She nodded. “Yeah, an outsider that has nothing to do with us or the company.”

    He snorted. “The last therapist we made him go see-”

    “I don’t mean a therapist,” she interrupted. “It has to be someone that won’t hold back any punches like we do. Someone who’s opinion will probably mean more to him than any of ours.”

     “You can’t mean what I think you’re implying.” _Has Anko lost her mind?_

    Anko straightened, fixing him with a withering glare. “Is something wrong with that, Tenzou?”

     He threw his hands up in frustration. Something was _definitely_ wrong with the people around him. “I can think of about a hundred reasons why setting him up on a date would be a bad idea! You do realize that it’s his dead lover and father of his child he’s mourning right?”

    “Of course I know that!” she shot back heatedly. “And that’s exactly why I think that this could work. He’s lonely, and needs someone to heal him in ways we can’t!”

    “In three years he’s never expressed any interest in dating again, Anko! How the hell are we going to convince him to go out on a date, let alone find someone willing to get mixed up with him?” Tenzou shook his head stubbornly. “Meddling in his love life won’t fix things. It might make them worse.”

     “You won’t know until you try,” she pressed fervently. “Look, I know it’s crazy, and I know it won’t be easy, but just _think_ about it. You know better than I do that sometimes _one_ opinion trumps all others.” Anko’s eyes bore knowingly into his. “Sometimes that opinion is what a person needs to change.”

    Tenzou wanted to argue, but thought better of it. Once Anko became fixated on a plan, there was no stopping her. Granted, there was some merit and truth in her words. He’d witnessed firsthand, that while people valued their friends’ opinions of them, there was always one person’s that inherently meant more. For him it was obviously Rin, and for Anko he supposed it could be Gai, though their relationship wasn’t clearly defined. And, now that he thought about it, Obito had always been able to communicate with Kakashi in ways no one else could. But was it really possible to find someone else that could do the same? Did they even have the _right_ to try?

     “Who would we ask to do this?” he reluctantly asked.

    Anko leaned back into the cushions, tension leaving her body. “Like I said, someone that has nothing to do with the company and doesn’t have any preconceived notions about him.” She nudged the coffee table with her foot. “There’s this escorting agency that I rent from sometimes when I need a date to a charity event. We could find someone there.”

     Tenzou balked at that. “You want us to _hire_ someone to date him? Are you out of your mind, woman?!”

    She rolled her eyes and huffed irritably in response. “For the first two or three dates. After that, Kakashi will want to rent him out on his own.”

    Tenzou’s mind was reeling at that. She couldn’t be serious. He didn’t have anything against escorts or their profession, but this wasn’t supposed to be a job. “They’d break his heart, Anko,” he managed shakily.

   “Not the person I have in mind,” she said firmly. “I’ve known this guy since for several years, and he’s as pure hearted as they come. If anyone is capable of getting through to Kakashi, it’ll be him.”

    “And you’re willing to bet Kakashi’s sanity on that?” he demanded tersely.

    “Yes.” Anko crossed her arms over her breasts and stared sadly at the opposite wall. “Honestly, I think it’ll do them _both_ some good.”

    Tenzou cocked his head. “What do you mean by that?” he inquired.

    Anko swiftly shook her head and stood. “It’s not my business to tell, but I will say that when it comes down to it, Kakashi and this friend of mine may have a lot more in common than either of us could understand.”

   He frowned but didn’t push her. Obviously if Anko was reluctant to gossip, it was a serious matter. “What’s the name of the escorting service? And who am I renting?”

   “One second,” she replied, disappearing down the hall. A few minutes later she returned and thrust a business card into his hands. “Go there and ask for Iruka Umino. He usually only escorts on the weekends, but you can technically request him at any time.”

     _That’s far too perfect to be coincidence,_ Tenzou thought, stowing the card in his pocket. “Great. I’ll make arrangements tomorrow during lunch.”

   Anko smiled for the first time since they’d begun talking about Kakashi, and he would be lying if he said it didn’t make his heart skip a beat. Sometimes he couldn’t decide if Gai was a lucky bastard for earning Anko’s affections, or an idiot for not formally asking the woman out. Then again, Gai was oblivious to her less than subtle hints that she wanted a more committed relationship.

    “Tell me how it goes. I’m gonna get back to Gai before he gets upset.”

    “What would he get upset about?” Tenzou asked unthinkingly.

    Mischief flashed in Anko’s dark brown eyes. She placed her hands on both hips and seductively curled her lips. “For round five of course,” she purred, batting her lashes. She spun on her heels and strut from the room, cackling wickedly at the Tenzou’s spluttering and horrified expression.

   

    

     

  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well I hope that was definitely worth the read! Just to clarify a few points:  
> (1) Shisui is a child that Kakashi and Obito agreed to have, and Rin was their surrogate. (#friendship goals)  
> (2) Shisui is about 3 years old, and I included him because he's a character you don't really get to see much in Naruto fanfictions.  
> (3) I can't say this enough: I really do love Kakashi, but I need him just a little messed up for this story. I'm sorry if that bothers some people!
> 
> Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed it and thank you so much for the comments and kudos. Next chapter is the highly anticipated "date from Hell". See you then!  
> P.S. I'm also looking for a beta! :3


	4. Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all! I have returned! So first off, I need to give a major shout out to my beta TheRegalHarvester for helping me put this together. She is utterly amazing and i love her! <3   
> Second, there is very mild non-con or hints of it, but I swear it only lasts a second! (It's not between Kakashi and Iruka, don't worry)  
>  ANyway, I hope you all enjoy the chapter!

   It had been late October, shortly after Hiruzen had adopted him, when he’d first met Yamabe Konoye. Iruka had only been thirteen at the time, and therefore hadn’t properly understood the relationship between the man and Hiruzen. He’d assumed that they were friends or work colleagues, based on Yamabe’s frequent visits to the home. Hiruzen had never said anything to the contrary, and had always asked that they be respectful whenever the man visited. Yamabe had become someone he’d thought he could rely on, and he’d been the first person Iruka had gone to after Hiruzen’s death. 

  He’d been naïve. The relationship between Yamabe and Hiruzen had been volatile, civil only when the men discussed business, and that had never been more apparent than when Iruka came to work for him the previous year.

**_Konoye’s Elite Escorting_** **_Company_** (formally **_Sarutobi & Associate’s Companion Services_**) had been a joint venture between the two men, one that Hiruzen had primarily controlled and planned to pass on to Asuma after he retired. The fire had ruined those plans, and as the remaining partner and shareholder, Yamabe had been given totalitarian rights over the company. Iruka had never wanted or asked to inherit the business, and hadn’t been given any rights to it in Hiruzen’s will. He deeply regretted that now. Everything that Hiruzen had built for his family was under Yamabe’s twisted control; and, unfortunately, there was nothing he could legally do, a fact that Yamabe shamelessly flaunted. 

   But Yamabe wasn’t the sole reason Iruka hated working there. Rather, it was his nephew Mizuki that made it nearly unbearable. Iruka would have gladly quit months ago if the consequences weren't so severe.

  “Is that the best you can do? I told you this client was important, yet you came wearing  _ that  _ old thing?” Mizuki sneered derisively, nose wrinkling as he looked Iruka over.

  Iruka bit the inside of his cheek to keep from snapping back immediately. “It’s the only suit I have,” he replied tightly. The suit in question actually belonged to Asuma, and he was only borrowing it with Kurenai’s permission. It wasn’t a comfortable fit, but it’d do for one night.

“It’s hideous,” he continued, as if Iruka hadn’t spoken. “I know my uncle pays you enough to buy decent clothing.”

_ Like Hell you do,  _ Iruka thought bitterly. “Well, clearly not enough.” He’d checked the numbers, and knew that Yamabe and Mizuki were siphoning more than their fair share from the company while the employees suffered wage cuts. But like their other backhanded dealings, they did so through legal loopholes.

Mizuki’s pale green eyes cut to him sharply, narrowing. “What was that?” he demanded coldly.

_ Tread carefully, Umino.  _ “Nothing,” he answered automatically. It wouldn’t do him any good to rile the other man up. Mizuki’s temper was legendary amongst Iruka’s coworkers, and while he was prohibited from harming them, he could cut their hours. He couldn’t risk that, not when Naruto was depending on him.

“Nothing  _ what? _ ” he sneered.

“Nothing, _sir,”_ Iruka spat through gritted teeth. _Asshole._ “If there’s nothing else, I have an errand to run before meeting the client.” That was a blatant lie, but Mizuki didn’t have to know that. He turned on his heel and strode stiffly to the door.

A cold hand abruptly closed around his wrist, and roughly jerked him back. “I don’t remember dismissing you,” Mizuki snarled heatedly. He spun Iruka around and backed him into the door. The knob dug harshly into Iruka’s back, making him wince.

“Let go of me, Mizuki,” he commanded stonily. Iruka shoved at the other man’s chest with his free hand. He may as well have just stood there, for all the good it did. Mizuki was two inches taller than Iruka, and while that didn’t necessarily give him an advantage over the brunette, he was inarguably stronger.

The man chuckled darkly and took a measured half step closer. His body slotted against Iruka’s, trapping him. “Something the matter, Umino?” he challenged, looming menacingly over him. He  gripped Iruka’s chin tightly with his other hand. “Do you hate me that much?”

_ Yes.  _ “Let me go,  _ now, _ ” Iruka repeated fiercely, pulling against Mizuki’s painful grasp. This was one of the things he hated most about the man. He got off on exerting his “power” over Iruka, because there weren’t any consequences for his behavior. Mizuki had never gone further than intimidating him like this, but Iruka feared the time was rapidly approaching when the white haired man would make good on his threats.

“Say please,” Mizuki ordered. “Go on, ask nicely.” His eyes were trained intensely on Iruka’s face, drinking in every flicker of emotion. “Do I need to remind you what’ll happen if you don’t do as I say?”

Iruka’s eyes widened minutely, and he reluctantly slackened in Mizuki’s grip. “Please let me go,” he complied stiffly. Shame pooled in Iruka’s gut, bile rising in his throat. He defiantly held Mizuki’s gaze, however, not willing to give him the satisfaction of knowing he’d gotten to him. 

Irritation flashed in the green irises, but before he could torment him further, there was a loud knock on the door. Mizuki reluctantly let him go and stepped away just as the door opened. Iruka stumbled away from the door, buffeted in part by the doorknob, his wrist cradled to his chest. A second later Aoi Teramoto, Mizuki’s assistant, stepped into the room. She glanced between the two men, her pretty mouth twisted into an uneasy frown.

  “What do you want?” Mizuki snapped agitatedly. He angrily stomped back to his desk and plopped none too gently into his chair.

  Aoi startled, blue eyes widening frightfully. “Well, um…” she cleared her throat before continuing, “I was just coming to inform you that the client is here for Mr-”

“Fine,” the white haired man interjected. His glare cut from his assistant to the brunette man who hadn’t moved an inch since Aoi had entered. “Get the Hell out,” he barked.

Iruka didn’t need to be told twice. He darted from the room, Aoi on his heels moments later. They walked briskly down the hall to the elevator. It was a relatively quiet journey, apart from her heels clacking against the tile floor. When they reached the ground level she placed a gentle hand on his arm and looked at him sympathetically before going back up. He was grateful that she didn’t comment or ask any questions. She had been one of the few that’d stuck around after Yamabe had taken over, and knew the delicate situation he’d gotten himself into. He suspected that she’d mostly stayed to watch over Iruka as best as she could.

_ Focus, you have a job to do.  _ Shaking his head, Iruka walked out into the cool night air, determined to get the job over with as soon as possible. He had barely gotten a few feet from the entrance when a man stepped into his path. If his reflexes were any worse he may have bowled the man over, but luckily he’d managed to stop himself just before they collided.

“Are you alright sir?” Iruka hastened to ask, inspecting him. The stranger was his height, with short cropped brown hair and dark, almond shaped eyes. He was dressed casually in jeans and a plain button down shirt, with a windbreaker draped over one shoulder. If he had to guess, Iruka would say he was in his late twenties, but he couldn’t be much older than that.  

  The stranger waved him off with a light smile. “I’m fine. You’re Iruka Umino, I presume?”

  Iruka was taken aback. “Do I know you?” he asked cautiously. He’d learned early on that sometimes ex-clients would stalk hosts they may have seen or been unable to afford.

“Oh, right, you weren’t here the other day!” he laughed, extending his hand for Iruka to take. “My name is Yamato, but I normally go by Tenzou. I put in the request for you for the evening.”

Iruka accepted the gesture with a smile. “Sorry about that; my boss didn’t really give me any information about you beforehand.”

  Tenzou retracted his hand and scratched at the back of his head. “Well, I’m not actually the person you’ll be accompanying tonight. I’m just picking you up for him.” He gestured to the car idling behind him. “I can tell you a little bit about him on our way to meet him.”

“Right…” Iruka replied slowly. It wasn’t unusual for clients to send a representative in their place (scandals and what not), but it wasn’t something he normally dealt with.  _ Hopefully this won’t be too bad,  _ he thought, sliding into the front seat.

* * *

 

The first thing Iruka thought when he saw Kakashi Hatake was that the man was unfairly attractive, more than anyone had the right to be. Beautiful didn't quite describe Kakashi. He wore simple black slacks and a dark blue dress shirt that did little to hide the firm muscles of his chest and arms. He was taller than Iruka, and slender. His ivory skin was smooth and free of blemishes, except for a scar that ran parallel to his nose from his left eye to the corner of his mouth. He had high cheekbones accented by a firm, hard jaw. His silver hair was wild and thick, as if he routinely ran his fingers through it. His long, black lashes kissed his pale cheeks every time he blinked. Curious, steel gray eyes focused intensely on Iruka, the stare both alluring and unnerving. They drew Iruka into their stormy depths, and devoured him where he stood.

Iruka swallowed a rising lump in his throat and mentally shook himself.  _ He’s a client. Mixing business and pleasure can only end in disaster,  _ he sternly reminded himself. Yet, despite repeating the mantra several times as he drew closer to the man, his heart continued to patter frantically. He resisted the urge to tug at his collar, and blushed furiously under Kakashi’s scrutiny. His mouth grew dry.  _ Calm down. He’s not that impressive.  _ He almost snorted at the blatant lie. Kakashi was drop dead gorgeous, and that was only made more apparent by a group of young women ogling him as they passed.  _ He’s probably straight.  _ That had the desired effect of calming himself enough to stop acting like a love-struck teenager. He pointedly ignored the voice in his head questioning why a straight man would rent a male escort. He could wonder at that later.

“Good evening,” Iruka greeted when he drew even with the taller man. He extended his hand and offered a warm smile. “I’m Iruka Umino.” 

Kakashi’s eyes dropped to his outstretched hand for a minute,  before coming back up to his face. Something akin to recognition flashed in them before the glare grew cold. “You’re the kid Tenzou hired for the night,” he stated dryly. He assessed Iruka from head to toe, unimpressed. 

Iruka dropped his arm uncertainly, confused by the sudden disgust and irritation on the man’s face. “Um, yes?”

“You don’t seem so sure.” He tucked his hands into his pockets. “In any case, I don’t feel like babysitting this evening.” With that, Kakashi turned his back and walked to the bar at the far corner of the room.

Iruka reeled back, startled by the brusque attitude, and stared after him.  _ What the Hell? _

* * *

 

      “Your drink, sir.” Kakashi barely looked up as the bartender placed a glass in front of him. He wordlessly slapped a crumpled bill onto the counter and pulled the drink closer. The bartender, a middle-aged man with peppered black hair, pursed his lips and silently slid the bill into his vest pocket. “Enjoy,” he said dryly. He moved to Kakashi’s neighbor and asked in a friendlier tone, “And for you, young man?”

  Kakashi squeezed the glass tightly, and threw said neighbor an ugly glare. The man, Iruka, quickly looked away when he met Kakashi’s eyes.  _ Good _ . He didn’t have a personal grudge against Iruka, but he wanted to make it pointedly clear that the escort was not wanted. He still couldn’t fathom what Tenzou had been thinking, hiring an escort for him.

   The brunette declined the offer, motioning to Kakashi. “I don’t drink while working,” he explained.

   The bartender’s eyes briefly flitted to Kakashi’s before meeting Iruka’s again. “Good luck,” he muttered sympathetically before scurrying further down the bar.

Kakashi grit his teeth and took a long swallow of his drink, grimacing as the alcohol slid down his throat. He quickly gulped down the last of the bitter drink and waved to get the bartender’s attention. It wasn’t nearly as good as the liquor Tsunade occasionally treated him to, but it’d have to do until he got home.

      “Um,” Iruka started, turning on his stool to fully face him, “it’s still pretty early. Shouldn’t-”

“Mind your business kid,” Kakashi gruffly interrupted. He knew what Iruka was going to say, and frankly didn’t want to hear it. He’d only had two drinks since the younger man arrived, and he was far from his limit. Despite what Tenzou and the others believed, he did know better than to get drunk around business associates.

   Iruka frowned. “I already told you I’m twenty-four,” he reminded tersely.

_ And I already told you to get lost.  _ Kakashi shrugged and ignored him as the bartender approached. “Another,” he said, indicating the empty glass in front of him.

   The bartender raised a thin eyebrow, but said nothing. He refilled Kakashi’s glass, all the while chatting amicably with Iruka. Kakashi didn’t miss the poorly disguised desire in the older man’s eyes, yet the brunette obliviously smiled and flirted back. For some unfathomable reason, it pissed Kakashi off.

“Here, try this,” the bartender insisted, sliding Iruka a bright blue drink. “It’s on the house,” he continued, winking.

A pretty blush stole over the caramel skin. “Oh! Um-”

“He already said he doesn’t drink on the job,” Kakashi growled, pushing the drink away from the brunette. He stood and reached for Iruka’s wrist. “Come on.” He wordlessly dragged Iruka away from the bar, ignoring the younger man’s spluttered protests. “Annoyed” didn’t even begin to describe how Kakashi felt in that moment. He didn’t know if he wanted to go back to the bar and drive his fist into the bartender’s face or yell at Iruka for shamelessly flirting back with him. Maybe both, but he couldn’t understand  _ why  _ it bothered him. Didn’t he  _ want  _ Iruka out of his hair for the night?

     Kakashi stopped in the middle of the floor and dropped Iruka’s wrist. Irritation flickered in dark brown eyes, as he glowered up at him. “What was that all about?” he demanded, rubbing his wrist.

_ I don’t know.  _ “That’s obvious isn’t it? I don’t need you drunkenly flirting with my associates,” he drawled condescendingly.

   Iruka balked at that, cheeks darkening. His jaw clenched and he drew himself to his full height. To Kakashi’s immense pleasure, he was still shorter. “Oh, but I suppose it’s alright for  _ you  _ to be drunk off your ass?” he snapped.

   He held Iruka’s gaze evenly and stepped threateningly into his space. “If you don’t like it, you can leave.”

   For his credit, Iruka didn’t back down, though Kakashi didn’t miss the minute trace of apprehension flash in his eyes. “Trust me, I’m not still here because of your  _ charming  _ personality, Mr. Hatake,” he retorted waspishly.

   Kakashi raised a delicate eyebrow, surprised by the other man’s anger. He hadn’t expected it based on how he’d behaved thus far. Iruka seemed mild mannered, submissive, and boring.  _ Interesting.  _ “Look kid, it’s nothing personal-”

   “There you are Kakashi!” a cheery voice loudly chirped behind him.

_You’ve got to be kidding me._ Kakashi sighed heavily and turned. Anko, Gai, and another man Kakashi didn’t know, were navigating their way towards him and Iruka. Anko, as usual, was distractingly beautiful. She wore magenta slacks that flatteringly hugged her hips and thighs, a lacy black top that molded to her breasts, black pumps, and a matching magenta blazer. Her dark purple hair was piled atop her head in a messy bun, a few strands escaping to frame her face. Gai, who walked protectively behind her, wore his best (worst) forest green suit. The other man with them was thin and wiry, judging by the way his clothes hung from him. He wore thick, black rimmed glasses; and his dark gray hair was pulled back into a low ponytail. He was young, probably Iruka’s age, but carried himself as if he were much older. _He must have recently acquired a family business if he’s here,_ Kakashi mused.

Anko stood on her toes and pressed her violet lips against his cheek when they drew even with him. “We’ve been looking all over for you!” she exclaimed.

Kakashi glowered at the woman and rubbed at his cheek. She better not have left another lipstick print on him. “Dare I ask why?” he hazarded.

   Gai clapped him on the shoulder. “Are you not happy to see us, my dear friend?!” he bellowed dramatically. A few people looked over at them curiously before going back to their own conversations.

_ Must he always do this?  _ “Thrilled,” Kakashi deadpanned, ducking from under his hand.

“Could have fooled me,” Iruka mumbled under his breath, earning a frosty glare from Kakashi.

   Anko giggled. “How’s it going Iruka? I didn’t expect to see you here.” She stepped around Kakashi and pulled the brunette into a crushing hug, which he readily returned. “So you’ve dumped me for Mr. Grumpy, huh?” she teased, jerking her thumb back at Kakashi.

       “What was that?” Kakashi demanded, patience waning. They knew each other? How? And why was she still hugging him? _ Why do you care? _

   Iruka fixed him with a wide-eyed, innocent stare. “Nothing at all, Mr. Hatake,” he answered sweetly. He winked at Anko. “Don’t worry, you’re still my number one, Ms. Mitarashi.”

   Anko blushed lightly and flicked his forehead. “I told you to call me Anko!” she laughed.

  “Are you both quite finished?” Kakashi asked through gritted teeth. The two exchanged conspiratorial smirks before pulling away from one another. Kakashi would never admit that he felt better after they’d separated.  _ Their proximity was inappropriate. She’s an important business woman and he’s just an escort,  _ he adamantly told himself. “What did you two want?”

  Gai possessively wound an arm around Anko’s waist when she rejoined him. “We wanted to introduce you to Mr. Yakushi. He is the current head of the Research and Development department for-”

“Sound Independent Group,” Kakashi finished. He smiled easily, though it didn’t reach his eyes. He extended a hand to the bespectacled man. “Kakashi Hatake, executive consultant of Neuro-Systems Consultant Inc. It’s a pleasure to meet you Mr. Yakushi.”

“No need to be so formal,” he laughed, shaking Kakashi’s hand. “Please, call me Kabuto.”

Kakashi nodded and drew his hand back. _Limp grip. Definitely new._ “I presume this is about the new tech product Orochimaru hopes to push into the market,” he stated without preamble. He already knew about the program Orochimaru had created, and the inherent security risks that came with it. Tsunade had made him research it the previous year.

“Well, that’s part of-”Kabuto began before Kakashi cut him off.

“You’ve got sixty seconds to make your pitch.” He folded his arms over his chest and stared down at the other man. Anko rolled her eyes at Kakashi’s antics and excused herself, dragging Iruka along with her. Gai’s eyes widened anxiously. Neither were particularly fond of his blunt, borderline rude, haggling; then again, they didn’t understand his reasoning or methodology. Companies routinely attempted to push their products on Tsunade-whose standards were stringent and unyielding-through Kakashi. If they failed to impress him, they’d be hard pressed to get Tsunade to buy. He wasn’t always kind, but he refused to allow their company’s reputation to suffer because he’d been lenient.

Kabuto’s onyx colored eyes widened. “It’s a unique computer system that tracks each keystroke and compiles a profile based on the user’s habits-”

   “That isn’t unique,” Kakashi interrupted stonily. “That’s the function of the  **_ZeuS_ ** malware package, in fact. You can’t be suggesting that we use an actual  _ virus  _ to protect secure data.”

  Iruka returned then, drink clutched in his hand. Anko sidled up beside him, a glass in her hand as well. “What’s going on?” she demanded, frowning disdainfully at Kakashi.

   The silver haired man shook his head. “Orochimaru is playing a dangerous,  _ illegal  _ game,” he spat darkly. “The product they’re trying to push is a Trojan horse designed to-”

Iruka perked up at that, eyes lighting excitedly. “Wait, are you talking about  **_Porphyrion_ ** ?” he asked hurriedly.

“What would  _ you  _ know about this?” Kakashi hissed, wheeling on the younger man.

“It’s this new program I read about. It takes the original source code of the ZeuS virus and reconfigures it to deliberately attack other keylogging viruses. It also auto-rejects any variance of the ZeuS virus if it contains more than three identical lines of code with the original, and sends a counter virus against the hacker,” Iruka hastened to explain. He smiled wide eyed at Kabuto. “ _You_ developed it?”

Kabuto blinked owlishly at Iruka, cheeks reddening. “You- you’ve heard of it?”

Iruka nodded excitedly. Anko beamed, clearly impressed. Gai threw an arm around Iruka’s shoulders and pulled him against his side. “How wonderful!” he happily shouted. He turned a dazzling smile on Kakashi who hadn’t stopped staring at Iruka. “Tsunade would love to be the first to have this! Wouldn’t you agree, Kakashi?”

* * *

 

    In hindsight, he should have realized that he’d overstepped when he jumped in the middle of the discussion. It was a business transaction, and whether intentional or not, he’d undermined Kakashi. He had only been giving helpful information, because he’d believed that Kakashi didn’t know anything about the project, but it didn’t matter. It wasn’t his place.

   Hot fury blazed in Kakashi’s eyes, an unsettling contrast to his cold demeanor. “So you’ve heard of it, you say?” he asked conversationally.

   Iruka swallowed. “Y-Yes,” he stammered. He unconsciously clutched his drink closer to his chest.

   Kakashi hummed thoughtfully and took a measured step forward. “Then I’m also sure you know that the program was flagged by the Federal Cyber-Defense Team, and the project was ultimately disbanded. Do you know why?”

“Well -” Iruka muttered shakily.

“The program,” Kakashi continued, stepping closer, “can be remote controlled by anyone that has access to the codes, and is capable of decrypting data. It also requires that Sound Independent Group be given autonomy and access to  _ all  _ classified files.” He stopped less than an arm’s length away from Iruka, looming over him. “In other words, it is  _ illegal. _ ”

 Iruka determinedly met his gaze. “That was the original prototype. It’s different now, and more functional.”

Kakashi narrowed his eyes at him. “What are you talking about?” he demanded icily.

“It’s just like I said, the program is different. My best friend is obsessed with it, and has been following the project since its beginning. That’s how I heard about it.” He paused and dropped his gaze to his drink. “Look, I don’t want to interfere with how you do business or anything-”

“Then don’t.” Kakashi snapped sharply. “ _ I’ll  _ do my job, and you just play the part of the cheap whore. That's all you’re really here for, right?”

   Iruka was used to rude clients, and therefore had a thicker skin than most assumed. He did his best to remain professional and keep his temper in check, even when he wanted to lay into them. It wasn’t always easy, but to date, he’d rarely lost control of his emotions. He took the verbal abuse with a forced smile while constantly reminding himself that it was all for Naruto’s sake. He couldn’t say that was worth it now though.

   His fist collided with Kakashi’s jaw with a thundering crack, making the taller man stumble backwards. Iruka distantly heard the people around him gasp and exclaim in shock, but he couldn’t care in that moment. His eyes stung with angry, unshed tears, and his body violently shook.

   “I am  _ not  _ a prostitute, and even if I was, I would  _ never  _ sleep with an ass like you!” Iruka growled. He turned and fled before Kakashi could respond, the tears finally breaking free.

 

__

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! As usual comments and kudos are encouraged, and I sincerely thank everyone for their continued support!   
> P.S. I know absolutely nothing about computers and stuff like that, so please don't judge me for the tech stuff :3


	5. Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all! So once again, I've got to give a shout out to my beta TheRegalHarvester. (She's awesome!) Also, thank you all so much for the comments and kudos! Your input and support really motivates me to write better, so thanks a million times. :3 Anyway, enjoy!
> 
> Warnings:   
> -Panic Attack (brief, but still there)  
> -Mention/ Flashback of trauma (I'm not going to spoil what it is, but be aware that it is there)

**** Kakashi jerked awake, sucking in a sharp breath. His heart hammered against his ribs and blood roared in his ears. The sweat soaked sheets were twisted beneath his fingers, the blankets askew. For a long moment, he sat rigidly in place, muscles coiled taught. He swallowed dryly and let his eyes wander around the darkened room. There was nothing. He was completely alone.

_ A nightmare, only a nightmare.  _ Kakashi blinked and released a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, pulse steadying. Lightning streaked across the sky, throwing jagged shadows across the floor. Another long minute passed before his fingers uncurled from the sheets and he leaned back against the headboard with a long sigh. Kakashi closed his eyes and listened to the rain pattering against the walls. He had found it comforting at one time, disarming in an unusual way. Now they only served as a reminder of  _ that  _ day: The sun cloaked in a light blanket of clouds. A brisk wind, and the smell of rain. The prickle and crackle of electricity that made your hair stand on end. The low hum of thunder rolling over the sky. Obito teasing him from the passenger seat. A slow, sweet kiss. And then nothing. Obito was dead and he was left alone to mourn him.

__ A weight settled on Kakashi’s chest.  _ He’s gone.  _ He shook his head to clear it and stiffly pushed to his feet. Another loud clap of thunder rattled the window.  _ Gone. _ His legs wobbled dangerously under him as he stumbled out of his bedroom and into the hallway. He groped the wall blindly for a moment until he found the light switch, and seconds later the hall was bathed in a warm glow.   _ Gone.  _ He leaned against the wall and clutched at his chest as if to alleviate the agonizing pressure, breathing labored. His vision blurred gray and his head throbbed. His lungs burned for oxygen. His limbs grew heavy and numb.  _ Please,  _ Kakashi begged as he sank to the floor,  _ take me with you.  _ The rain pelted the roof and walls, drowning out his pleas. 

Kakashi wasn’t aware of how much time had passed. He’d babbled incoherently, begging until his throat felt raw and broken. The rain continued to muffle his cries. And then suddenly he heard an agonizingly shrill chime blaring from in the bedroom accompanied by agitated pounding on his front door. He groaned and covered his ears with both hands, tucking his head between his pajama clad knees. _Please, Obito. Take me with you._ And then hands were around his wrists, tugging his own away from his ears.

“Kakashi, look at me!” Tenzou commanded sternly. Kakashi hazily obeyed. “Are you hurt?” he continued.

“No,” Kakashi croaked. He winced at the sound of his own voice. When had it become so brittle?

__ Tenzou’s lips pressed into a hard line, but he didn’t push him. He stood and dragged Kakashi to his feet. “I’ll make some coffee,” he said instead, one hand curled protectively around the taller man’s elbow. Without waiting for a response, he led Kakashi down the hall and into the dining room. His body sagged a little against Tenzou’s as they walked, though the other man tactfully didn’t mention it. All the while, the silver haired man was trying to shake off the panic attack he’d pushed himself into.  _ Pathetic.  _

          Tenzou flipped on the light when they entered the dining room and gently pushed him towards the table. “Sit,” he ordered before disappearing into the kitchen.

Kakashi hesitated before sinking into the chair closest to him. The pressure in his chest had abated some since Tenzou’s arrival, and the throbbing in his head had settled to a dull ache. The overwhelming sensation of drowning and choking had disappeared as well. It no longer felt as if he were seconds away from dying. 

   Sighing, Kakashi lay his head on the table and closed his eyes. He could hear Tenzou rooting around in his kitchen for mugs, and only then did he wonder at how the man had gotten into his home in the first place. Kakashi couldn’t recall ever giving him a key to the penthouse, but then again, his memory wasn’t that reliable as of late. Still, what was he even doing there? They only ever rode to work together if Kakashi was sporting a severe hangover or Tenzou wanted to lecture him. Seeing as he hadn’t drank himself into oblivion the previous night, it was most likely the latter.

__ “Your coffee maker sucks, ergo your coffee is going to taste like shit,” Tenzou griped, returning with two steaming cups. Kakashi grunted a reply and accepted one of the mugs before the other man took a seat across from him. “I don’t know why you still have the damn thing. Didn’t Tsunade buy you a new one last year for Christmas?”

__ Kakashi shrugged noncommittally and took a cursory sip.  _ Holy Hell!  _ He almost spit the coffee, if it could even be called that, back into the cup when it touched his tongue. It tasted like chalk and clay as it slid down his throat. His nose wrinkled and he only just managed not to wretch.  _ Jesus that was foul!  _ He looked at Tenzou through watery eyes, and found the man calmly drinking from his own glass.

The brunette’s lips twitched into a satisfied smirk. “Well naturally _I’m_ not going to drink your shitty coffee. I helped myself to your tea. Besides,” he deposited his glass on the table and nodded at the cup Kakashi still gripped between pale fingers, “it’s no more than you deserve after Saturday night.”

The words were cutting, though his voice remained deceivingly light. Kakashi dropped his eyes and studiously examined his fingernails, tensing. “Saturday night you say?” he repeated innocently.  _ Damn it. _

He could feel Tenzou’s heated glare, but refused to meet it. “Yes, Saturday night,” the man replied in that sickly sweet tone. “You know, the night where you made an ass of yourself and humiliated that kid for no goddamn reason?”

“I told you I didn’t want-” Kakashi grumbled.

“That doesn’t matter!” Tenzou interrupted, slamming his fist angrily into the table. The coffee sloshed over the rim of his mug, stinging his fingers and staining the linen table cloth an ugly brown. Tenzou’s glass tumbled to the ground, but he didn’t seem to notice or care. “That had nothing to do with Iruka, and you had  _ no right  _ to treat him that way! You’re lucky all he did was slug you.”

__ Kakashi gapped at him, fury swelling in his gut. “I didn’t  _ do  _ anything to him! I told him to stick to his job and stay out of ours, so if that’s offensive-”

 “You called him a whore.”

“And? What the Hell do you think an escort _is_?” Kakashi retorted.  The words felt like sandpaper on his tongue, scratched at his throat as he forced them out. He knew they were wrong, that _he’d_ been wrong, but he couldn’t say that. No one could know that he’d spent the better part of Sunday beating himself up for his abysmal behavior Saturday night. His pride wouldn’t let him.

Tenzou shook his head, eyeing Kakashi reproachfully. “I can’t fucking believe you,” he growled. He ran a hand down his face. “Look, I honestly don’t care what you think about his profession, but I _do_ expect you to properly apologize.” He leaned across the table and jabbed a finger in Kakashi’s face. “And the next time you see him, you _better_ be on your best behavior. Am I clear?”

  His voice brokered no argument, no matter how much Kakashi wanted to give him one. Yes, he’d been unnecessarily coarse with Iruka, but was it really imperative that he track the brunette down and apologize? The man was in a line of work where he was bound to run into people with unsavory opinions of him, and should be more adept at dealing with that. Granted, Kakashi’s derogatory statement had been bred more from his own wounded pride and confused feelings than anything Iruka had done. In any case, those were not things Kakashi was willing to explain to Tenzou. That would only lead to awkward conversations about the conflicting emotions he hadn’t even begun to analyze. So no, he wouldn’t avidly seek out the younger man, but if they crossed paths, he would make amends.

“Kakashi,” Tenzou snapped impatiently, cutting into Kakashi’s reverie. He had calmed somewhat, but there was still a dangerous edge to his voice. “Are we clear?” he repeated.

_ Why do you care so much about this kid?  _ “Yes,” Kakashi replied stiffly.

__ Satisfied, the shorter man sighed and pushed himself to his feet. “Hurry up and get dressed. Tsunade called for a meeting and sent me to pick you up.” He turned and strode into the adjoining living room without waiting for a response.

_ A two for one, eh?  _ Kakashi thought sardonically.  _ Must be my lucky day. _

* * *

 

 “Where the Hell have you been?” Tsunade barked when Kakashi arrived at her office over an hour later. Her eyes swiveled to Tenzou when Kakashi declined to answer. “Well?” she demanded crisply.

The shorter man shot Kakashi a dark, withering glare before answering. “He wasn’t feeling well when I got there,” he replied evenly.

“And?” Tsunade scoffed. She fingered a letter opener, green eyes glinting threateningly. The men unconsciously took a half step back. Tsunade had a wicked temper, and was not one to trifle with when important business was at hand. Kakashi had been on the receiving end of her wrath several times, and knew how lethally accurate her aim could be when provoked. “Unless you are literally on your death beds or missing a damn limb, I expect you to arrive promptly when I call a meeting. Am I clear?”

“Yes ma’am,” they readily answered. Tenzou shot Kakashi another dirty look before excusing himself.

Satisfied, the blonde woman leaned back in her chair and waved Kakashi over. “So,” she began conversationally, “Orochimaru called this morning to discuss promoting one of his products. I understand that you met with one of his researchers Saturday night. What did you think?”

Kakashi’s face remained perfectly smooth and stoic as he answered. “Initially I didn’t think that it’d be a useful asset to the company. It’s utilizing cyber security techniques that have never been implemented before, and could be dangerous.”

“And now?” she pressed.

 The man sighed and crossed his arms over his chest. “I honestly don’t know enough about the project to give you an honest opinion,” he admitted grudgingly.

  Tsunade sighed heavily. “I see.” Her lips twisted into a pensive frown, her brows scrunching up together. “And there’s no one you can think of that might know more about it?”

  Kakashi hesitated. When he hadn’t been mentally berating himself for his behavior Saturday night, he’d obsessively researched project  **_Porphyrion_ ** . He’d found a few magazine articles talking about it, but they didn’t provide any relative information that he didn’t already know. But then he’d found a video from the expo Iruka had talked about, which confirmed everything the younger man had said. It was frustrating, because it meant that Kakashi had fucked up one hundred times worse than he’d originally thought. Whether he admitted to being an ass to the brunette or not, he couldn’t dismiss the fact that he’d been horribly wrong.

“No,” he lied, expression decisively neutral.

She drummed her fingers on the desk and chewed on her bottom lip. “I don’t feel comfortable negotiating a contract without knowing  _ exactly  _ what we’re dealing with,” she relented. “We’ll have to see if we can hold him until we know more.”

Kakashi ignored the scathing voice in the back of his head calling him a “coward” and “pathetic”. _Tsunade obviously means someone experienced with IT and software engineering. I can’t waste her time with Iruka._ Yet, even as he tried to assure himself that he was doing the right thing, he couldn’t ignore the guilt twisting nauseatingly in his gut. _I’ll just call in a favor from a friend. It shouldn’t be too complicated for them to research it more in depth, right?_

 A loud knock on the door startled the two adults, drawing them from their respective thoughts. Tsunade grumbled something incoherent and straightened in her seat. “Come in!” she called.

     A second later the door opened, and Anko stepped in, followed by Genma. The latter’s arms were laden with large rolls of graphing paper, while the former was pushing a filing cart. Anko, for once, appeared disheveled and out of sorts. Her hair was escaping from a sloppy ponytail, and her pants suit was slightly wrinkled. Dark circles rimmed her eyes and she was uncharacteristically frowning. Genma looked marginally better, but it was evident that the man was stressed as well. Kakashi did not envy them. It was a well-known fact that sales was the worst department to work in.

“I’m so sorry to interrupt your meeting, but we really need to discuss last quarter’s-” Anko rushed, faltering when she spotted Kakashi. The exhaustion drained from her pretty features, to be replaced with a murderous fury. Her nostrils flared, back stiffening. Cold eyes pierced him. Beside her, Genma took a cautionary step back.

_ Fuck.  _ Kakashi had hoped to avoid Anko for a few more days, or as long as it took for her to calm down and forgive him. Her reaction Saturday night had been the worse by far. If Gai hadn’t intervened, she would have done a lot more than knee him in the groin and throw her drink in his face. A part of him felt betrayed that she’d readily taken Iruka’s side, but he wasn’t stupid enough to say that aloud.

“Is there a problem?” Tsunade asked testily, looking between the three of them.

Anko unwillingly shifted her attention to Tsunade, relaxing minutely. “No ma’am,” she replied. She pushed the cart further into the room, and beckoned Genma to follow. “Like I said, there were some things in the last quarter we needed to discuss, and this is the only time I had available.” She began pulling files from the cart and stacking them on the desk. “Most of these require your signature, but several need revision per their individual contract. They have to be done by Wednesday.”

Tsunade groaned and began cursing vehemently under her breath. Anko narrowed her eyes and placed her hands on her hips. Kakashi took that as his cue to leave. The blonde woman abhorred doing paperwork and Anko hated making her do it, which often lead to violent screaming matches between them. He gave Genma, who was watching the women resignedly, a pitying pat on the back as he left the room. 

   Kakashi wasted little time getting to his office and firmly locking the door behind him, intent on getting some work done that day. Contracts needed to be reviewed and finalized before he could start the next group of projects, and he could not afford to fall behind. Tsunade would kill him if he did. The computer, as usual, booted sluggishly. He clicked impatiently on the keyboard -as if that would make it turn on any faster- and mumbled violent, dark threats to it under his breath. He was exhausted, both mentally and physically, and thoroughly annoyed with his so called friends. It seemed everyone was determined to lecture or berate him for every little thing he did, as if they were faultless. He saw the way Tenzou looked at him Saturday afternoon at Rin’s house, recognized the accusation in his eyes. And though the others hadn’t been present, he knew they’d look at him the same as well.  _ They’ll never understand.  _

      He shook his head and opened the first file he saw. Kakashi paid minimal attention the information on the page, his fingers moving autonomously. His thoughts, meanwhile, wandered to Shisui’s birthday party Saturday afternoon. The party had been small and intimate, with only those closest to Kakashi attending. Rin’s parents had also been there, and they hadn’t bothered trying to hide their disapproval of him. _With good reason,_ a voice sneered in the back of his mind. He understood their disgruntlement, but that didn’t make their snide comments any easier to bear. Kakashi knew that he’d been selfish to ask Rin to keep Shisui, but there hadn’t been any alternative. He was too broken, too emotionally crippled to care for a young child. He would have destroyed Shisui. He still could. That had been inarguably apparent in the very beginning when Kakashi _had_ tried, and his negligence almost killed his last physical link to Obito. 

  He paused in his work, guilt enveloping him. Unbidden, the memory of Shisui lying in the hospital swam to the forefront of mind. The heady, overwhelming smell of antiseptic filled his nose. Goosebumps rose on his exposed forearms as if he were sitting in the frigidly cold hospital waiting room and not his office. The quiet chatter of nurses and other patrons had done little to calm him at the time. Gai had sat uncharacteristically silent beside him, a solid pillar of support. Rin had stood in a far corner, frantically speaking with Tenzou on her cellphone. Kakashi stared blankly at the floor between his feet, his world imploding right before his eyes. And then the doctor had come and coaxed him to follow into the ICU. Kakashi’s eyes watered, remembering the moment he’d seen Shisui’s tiny body. A wide feeding tube was shoved into his little mouth. Multi-colored wires were taped to his pale chest, and an iv drip was stabbed into the soft flesh of his ankle. His ribs jutted out sharply. Sweat slicked his fevered skin. He hadn’t been conscious, and if wasn’t for the telltale sound of the heart monitor, Kakashi would have thought him dead. Another person gone because he’d fucked up. Because he hadn’t noticed the four month old struggling to breathe occasionally, or that he hadn’t been eating enough. That sight alone had cemented what Kakashi already known: he was a murderer. A monster. He’d killed Obito. He could not,  _ would  _ not do the same to his lover’s child. 

 Kakashi sucked in a ragged breath and impatiently wiped at his face. The past was unchangeable. There was no use crying over his failures. Besides, he was still in Shisui’s life. He wasted no expense for Obito’s son, and had already ensured that both Shisui and Rin would be well taken care of should Kakashi die. It was the least that he could do.

 His computer beeped suddenly, alerting him to an incoming email from Tsunade. He chewed on his bottom lip for a moment, debating whether he should click on it or pretend he hadn’t received it.  _ It’s probably nothing important.  _ It was immediately followed by an instant message reading:  **_don’t you dare ignore me._ ** Kakashi groaned aloud and opened the email. It was a contract, or at least the rough draft of one, followed by a relatively short message.  **_Kakashi,_ ** it read,  **_I scheduled for you to meet with one of Orochimaru’s developers Thursday morning around 1pm. You are to report at his South Eastern branch ON TIME and sober (don’t test me. I WILL know if you weren’t). I’m going to make this your judgement call, so try to suss out as much information about it as possible. If it seems legitimate, we can begin contract negotiations at a later date. I want this to take priority for the time being, so I’ve reassigned half of your workload to some of the other consultants. Now, I don’t want you going into this completely blind, so I’m going to insist (read as demand) that you bring along someone with a little more knowledge of the subject. Anko recommended the young man you were with Saturday night, and I approve. I authorize you to use the company card to order his services for that day. Treat him to lunch on the card as well. And you BETTER behave yourself! Anko told me what happened, so if I hear ANYTHING about you mistreating him, there will be HELL to pay. Tsunade_ **

   Kakashi reread the email in disbelief. “What the Hell?!” he demanded furiously. Tsunade had to be joking! Surely there were more qualified people that could assist with negotiations, someone with a technical background? Just anyone that wasn’t Iruka. It was petty, he knew, but the idea of working with the younger man made his stomach twist in knots. Iruka detested him, with good reason, and Kakashi wasn’t particularly fond of him either. A partnership was not feasible. Explaining that to Tsunade, however, would be a fruitless endeavor that’d end with him sporting more than just a bruised ego. 

 “I hate my life,” he grouched. He used more force than strictly necessary to type out a response, stewing. After the message sent successfully and Tsunade hadn’t replied, he went back to his previous work. It proved difficult, his thoughts now fixed on his stupid task. He hadn’t a sliver of a clue how he was supposed to find Iruka. There were seven different agencies in their city alone, each employing at least fifty employees at any given time. Aside from that, how was he supposed to get Iruka to agree to working with him? He doubted the man would willingly go anywhere with him at this point. 

   A sudden knock at the door drew his attention. Kakashi rose unceremoniously and went to open it. He was both surprised and apprehensive upon seeing Anko on the other side. She stood directly in the doorway, arms crossed over her chest and disapproving glare firmly in place. He opened his mouth to greet her, when she abruptly cut him off. 

   “Save it,” she snapped, shoving a business card into his hand. “This is the place Iruka works. He usually only escorts on weekends, so you may have to pay an extra fee to get him for Thursday.”

  Kakashi tucked the card into his pocket after giving it a cursory once over. “Thanks,” he said. 

  Anko nodded, pursing her lips. “I’m pissed at you,” she said brusquely. 

   “I noticed,” Kakashi replied. 

  “What you said to Iruka was humiliating and uncalled for,” she continued. “I have half a mind to slug you on his behalf, but he doesn’t need me running to his defense.”

_ I wish you would have thought so Saturday night.  _ Kakashi simply nodded, choosing to let the woman vent rather than make things worse for himself. It was apparently one of his many talents. 

    Anko stepped closer to him then, danger glinting in her eyes. “I’m warning you though,” she jabbed a finger into his sternum, “if you do  _ anything  _ to hurt him,  I  _ will  _ kick your ass.” She stepped away. “And don’t think the boys will save you, either. They all agree, you went too far.”

   Kakashi gripped the door tighter. “Is that all?” he asked through clenched teeth.

  “For now,” Anko replied. She turned and walked down the hall, disappearing around the corner. 

  Kakashi barely resisted slamming the door, but only just. He stomped back to his desk, mumbling obscenities under his breath, but there was no heat behind the words. It wasn’t as if his anger changed how his friends felt at all. They were unwaveringly unsympathetic. He sat in his chair and rubbed at his temple, easing away the building pain.  _ I need a drink. _

* * *

 

Kakashi drummed his fingers against his thigh, and chewed on the inside of his cheek agitatedly. He had never been to a brothel, nor had he ever slept with a prostitute. In college he’d fantasized about renting a girl or boy for a night of mindblowing sex, but had never had the fortitude to go through with it. This aversion was partly due to the conditions sex workers lived and worked in prior to government intervention. By the time stricter regulations were imposed to protect sex workers, he’d already begun courting Obito, and no longer had a reason to go. In short, Kakashi had no idea what to expect, or do, when he first entered Konoye’s. 

_What the hell is Tsunade playing at?_ He wondered for the hundredth time. She was very particular about the people she brought into her fold. Forcing him to rent out an escort for a business meeting was completely out of character. Though, now that he thought about it, he could grudgingly admit that he should have seen it coming. Tsunade and Anko were ruthless when they wanted to make a point. 

_ Just get it over with Hatake. The sooner, the better.   _ Grudgingly, Kakashi stepped out of the car and made his way into the building. To the left of the door was a private lounge/bar, though it didn’t appear to be open. A larger common area lay to the right, and he could hear as well as see people milling about. Across from the door, a young woman with fiery red hair and hazel eyes sat behind a large wooden desk. Kakashi hastened to her. The faster he got out of there, the better. 

     She glanced up at his approach and offered a kind smile. “Good afternoon, how can I help you sir?” she asked politely. 

      Kakashi cleared his throat before answering. “Good afternoon…” he squinted at her nametag, “Ms. Teramoto. I’m here to, um…” he trailed off helplessly. Would “rent” be the right word to use here? Purchase? Both suggested that the escorts were owned in some capacity, and - maybe it was just him- he didn’t feel right implying as much. 

    “First time, huh?” Ms. Teramoto asked, taking pity on him. Kakashi nodded, earning a kind smile from the woman. “It’s okay, everyone reacts the same the first time they request an employee.” She rustled through her desk for a minute before pulling out a packet of papers and passing them to him. “Just follow the instructions on the first page; they’ll tell you which forms in there need to be filled out. As soon as you’re finished, we can get you scheduled.” 

     “Thank you,” Kakashi muttered. He held the papers close to his chest and made his way into the lounge, hoping to find a table as far from the other patrons as possible. It wouldn’t matter, he soon realized, for no one paid him any mind. There were about thirty or so people sitting in small groups around the room, deep in conversation. A few looked over when he entered, but none approached. Good. 

   Kakashi picked his way over to an empty table and began filling out the paperwork. It was fairly simple: a brief questionnaire, a terms of agreement form, and a buyer’s information page. He filled in the information, but briefly hesitated when selecting Iruka’s name. Maybe he could talk Tsunade into choosing someone else… Kakashi shook the thought away and brought the papers back to the front desk. 

   “That was fast,” the redheaded woman said, taking the papers. She looked them over, a strange look crossing her face. “One second,” she said cryptically. Ms. Teramoto typed something into her computer before standing and leading him to the elevator. 

   “Mr. Mizuki’s office will be the last door on your left. I’ve messaged him, so he should be expecting you. If he doesn’t answer, come back down and I’ll see what we can do for you.” She punched a code into the elevator, and a second later the doors slid open.  

      Kakashi wanted to ask what she meant by the last statement, but she’d already returned to the desk. He muttered his thanks anyway and stepped onto the elevator, stomach in knots. He couldn’t quite put his finger on what it was he felt, so he settled for irritation. It wasn’t a false feeling, and very easy to cling to given the circumstances. 

    The elevator dinged when it reached the fourth floor, the doors slowly pulling apart. No sooner had they opened, however, than someone else ran in. Kakashi’s arms closed around the person as soon as they collided with him, his back hitting the wall as they stumbled backwards. He bit back a curse when his elbow thwacked painfully against the railing.  _ That’s going to bruise _ , he thought, peering down at the stanger. 

    “Are you al-” the words died on his tongue, recognizing the man in his arms. Iruka stared back at him with impossibly wide, chocolate brown eyes. His lips were parted, his warm breath tickling Kakashi’s exposed neck. His fingers clutched desperately at Kaksahi’s biceps, burning the taller man through the fabric of his shirt. The scar across his tanned cheeks burned cherry red, as were his ears. He could feel the younger man’s heart thumping. Kaksahi reflexively held him tighter when Iruka began to pull away, though he couldn’t fathom why he did so. 

   “What’s going on here?!” Kakashi’s head jerked up at the sound of the enraged voice, grip slackening. 

    Iruka took advantage of the distraction and wrenched himself away. “Mizuki! It wasn’t-” he began.

   “Shut up.” Iruka flinched at the anger in the tone, but obeyed. Mizuki fixed Kakashi with a loathing glare. “Who are you?” he prompted. 

    Kakashi didn’t immediately answer, choosing instead to assess the other man. He had shoulder length white hair, pale green eyes, and white skin. He was taller than Iruka, but shorter than Kakashi. He was stockier as well. The man carried himself with all the power and authority of a school yard bully, and judging by his behavior thus far, Kakashi deduced that wasn’t far from the truth.  _ This man is in charge of scheduling? _

   A muscle ticked in Mizuki’s jaw after a full minute passed and Kakashi still hadn’t spoken. “I  _ said-”  _

__ “Kakashi Hatake,” Kakashi interrupted. He stepped out of the elevator, hands tucked into his pocket. 

    “How did you get up here? This floor is for employees only.” He sized Kakashi up, before wheeling on Iruka. “Did you let him up here?”

    The brunette, who hadn’t said anything since they’d been caught, shook his head. “Of course not,” he answered. His eyes briefly met Kakashi’s and for a mere moment, Kakashi swore Iruka was pleading with him for help. And then the look was gone and he stepped around Kakashi back into the elevator. He didn’t wait for either of the other men to say anything before pressing the button for the ground floor, disappearing a second later. 

     Kakashi made to follow, only to be brought up short by the other man’s hand closing around his wrist. “What do you want with Iruka?” he demanded jealously. 

      He easily pulled from the man’s grip and drew himself to his full height. “I’m renting him for a company event,” he spat back coldly.  _ Calm down, Hatake.  _ Kakashi forced himself to relax and produced a business card from his pocket. “I was sent here by my boss with explicit instructions to attain his services for Thursday afternoon. The receptionist at the front desk directed me to you.”

    Mizuki snatched the card out of his hand and stuffed it into his pants without looking at it. “You can’t have him,” he said bluntly. 

     Kakashi was taken aback. “Is he booked for that afternoon?” 

  “Iruka doesn’t escort during the week. I’m sorry, but you’ll have to find someone else.” Mizuki sounded anything but sorry. He also hadn’t stopped glaring at Kakashi, as if he’d personally insulted him.

   “Trust me, I would if I had a choice,” Kakashi muttered, rolling his eyes. His headache started building again, renewing his frustration with Tsunade.  _ She’s the reason you’re in this mess.  _ “Look,” he tried again, “it’s not really up to me. My boss wants him for that afternoon, so one way or another I have to get him. I can even pay double the normal fee.” 

   Mizuki seemed to consider this for a moment. “Fine,” he relented. “I’ll have my secretary fax the information to your office by the end of the day.” He turned on his heel and marched off without a backwards glance. 

_ Jackass,  _ Kakashi thought, forcefully punching the elevator button.  _ This is the last time I let Tsunade bully me into anything,  _ he vowed, unaware that the next time he came for Iruka, it’d be of his own volition. 

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew, so I hope that was worth the read! As always I welcome constructive criticism and theories about upcoming chapters, so don't be afraid to let me know what you think. Until next time! :) :) :)


	6. Six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! I'm still alive (mostly)!!! Don't worry I'm still super motivated to write this story, I've just got to get used to my school and work schedule (cries internally).  
> Anyway I hope this chapter makes up for the long wait! Enjoy! :3

 

 Time dragged along sluggishly, the monotonous  _ tick, tick, tick  _ of the clock grating on Iruka’s frayed nerves. A quick glance told him that it was only a quarter past eight, meaning he’d have to suffer for at least another twenty minutes before his shift ended. His feet were throbbing from standing for almost ten consecutive hours, and his head was beginning to pound . Ninety percent of the customers that’d come in that day had been belligerent and irritating, prompting his temper to flare more than once. His mood only soured further when Mizuki dropped by, to remind him of his assignment and harass him. His needling had been subtle enough to escape Kotetsu and Izumo’s notice, not that Iruka wanted them to intervene. Anything they did would exacerbate the situation, so he endured it. After all of that, saying he was exhausted would be a gross understatement. 

    Iruka sighed and tried to focus on his task. He was supposed to be prepping the pie crusts for the next day, but it was proving to be physically tiring. His hands and forearms were caked in flour and dough. The joints in his fingers groaned in protest as he kneaded. How many shells had he done so far? Ten? Fifteen? His knuckles were sure to be bruised and aching in the morning. If Izumo and Kotetsu didn’t use every shell, he’d kill them.

   He continued hammering at the dough with his fists, all the while mumbling half hearted threats under his breath. He didn’t notice Izumo sneaking up behind him until his gangly arm slid around Iruka’s waist. Iruka jolted in surprise.

   “What the Hell?!” he yelped, hands flying to his waist. 

    Izumo squeezed tighter and nuzzled into Iruka’s neck. “You looked like you needed a hug, Iru-kun,” he teased.

   Iruka blushed and struggled in his hold. “What did I say about calling me that?” he untangled himself from Izumo’s grasp and wiped his hands on his apron. Ever since they returned from their trip to Japan, Izumo and Kotetsu had insisted on using the honorific. 

   “Hmmm…” Izumo feigned, “only in the bedroom?” He grinned, waggling his eyebrows suggestively. 

  “And have Kotetsu hate me forever? I’ll pass,” Iruka snorted. He carefully picked up the finished shells and moved to put them in the freezer.

  It was the other man’s turn to snort. “Are you kidding me? Kotetsu would totally be down for a threesome with you!” Mischief danced in his dark eyes. “You know…”

  “Absolutely not,” Iruka deadpanned, cheeks burning. He stacked the pie shells on the rack, mindful of the other baked goods shoved in there. 

  “Oh come on Iru-kun,” Izumo whined dramatically. “You know we’ll take good care of you.” He leaned in against Iruka’s back, his warm breath fanning over his neck. “We’re both very skilled.” 

    Iruka spun around and glared at the other man, though the effect was diminished by the blush covering half his face. “That’s besides the point,” he insisted. “And it’s rude to tease like that.” The thing was, Izumo could be one hundred percent serious. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d joined the couple in bed, after all, but that was before things had gotten serious between the two men. Iruka didn’t want to be the third wheel in that relationship. Besides, his tastes had changed since their last dalliance. More recently, they’ve come to include wild silver hair and smoldering gray eyes. 

     Something must have shown in his face when he thought of Kakashi, because Izumo’s eyes widened and he smirked knowingly. “You have someone.”

   “No, I don’t,” Iruka replied quickly. He stepped around Izumo, fingers twisting in his apron. There was no way he was going to tell his friends about his unwanted crush on Kakashi Hatake. 

    The other man raised an eyebrow skeptically. “Oh sure, I totally believe you.” 

   “Believe what?” Kotetsu chimed in, appearing out of nowhere. He slung an arm around Iruka’s shoulders. 

    Iruka glared at Izumo, daring him to say anything. Naturally , he accepted the challenge. “Iru-kun has a secret boyfriend,” he said.

    “I do not!” the brunette protested, mortified.

   Kotetsu sucked in a deep breath and crushed Iruka to him. “How could you? After all we’ve been through!” he wailed dramatically.

   “I know right?” Izumo added with a slow shake of his head. “Have you no shame Iruka-kun?” 

   Iruka shoved Kotetsu away, resisting the urge to bludgeon them both.  _ I need new friends,  _ he thought. “For the last time: I  _ do not  _ have a secret boyfriend. And stop calling me Iruka-kun! I’m not even Japanese!” 

    Kotetsu shrugged and ruffled Iruka’s hair. “Oh don’t be sour about it. It’s a cute nickname.”

_ Just let it go Iruka. You’ll never win.  _ “Fine, call me whatever you want,” he relented. “But I am serious about not having a boyfriend. I’m happily single.”

     The two exchanged an indecipherable glance, talking in ways only a couple could. After a minute or so, the duo faced him again, smiling conspiratorially. “Well, if you’re not seeing anyone,” Kotetsu began. 

   “-then there’s no reason for you to turn down our once in a lifetime offer!” Izumo finished. 

 “Please tell me you didn’t,” he begged. They had a nasty habit of setting him up on dates that never ended well. One look at their beaming faces confirmed his worst fears.  Iruka’s stomach plummeted. “What would you have done if I said I had a boyfriend?”

   Kotetsu waved him off. “Cancel it, duh.” He said it as if the answer were obvious, though it only served to piss Iruka off more.

   “Well cancel it. I don’t want to go,” Iruka said sternly. 

   Izumo clapped him on the shoulder. “Sorry, no can do!” 

  “And why the Hell not?!”

   “Because you haven’t been laid in weeks and it’s making you crazy! You told a man to stuff a frozen scone up his ass!” he replied. “You need to loosen up a bit, and there’s nothing like a very thorough-”

     Iruka slapped his powdered hands over Izumo’s mouth. “Enough!” he hissed, blushing furiously again. “Look, I appreciate what you guys are trying to do for me, really I do, but I don’t want to fuck some random guy.” 

   Kotetsu rolled his eyes. “Well if not us, and not him, then who?”

   Izumo saved him from answering by breaking Iruka’s hold and thwacking Kotetsu on the back of the head. His eyes flashed warningly at his boyfriend before looking at Iruka apologetically. “Just forget it. I’ll tell the guy you’re not interested.” 

   “I’d appreciate it,” Iruka said. He faked a yawn, toying with the strings of his apron. “Is it okay for me to go now? It’s been a long day, and tomorrow will be even longer.” 

    “Yeah, go on ahead. We’ll lock up,” Izumo assured. “Tell us how things go with Douchebag McDick Face.” 

   Iruka couldn’t bite back his laugh. He’s told them about Kakashi, and they’d taken to verbally abusing him at every opportunity. The nickname was one of many they’d come up with. “Will do,” he promised, tossing his apron into the linens basket beside the door. “See you guys Friday!” He strode from the kitchen and quickly exited the bakery before they could accost him further. 

  The walk to the bus stop, and the ride thereafter, was uneventful. Iruka spent the majority of that time stewing over Kotetsu and Izumo’s incessant meddling in his lovelife. He knew his friends meant well, but their constant intrusiveness was quickly becoming pitiable. Or maybe that was just Iruka that was becoming pitiful. None of the strangers they threw at him stayed for very long. Most pressed for sex immediately after learning what he did for a living, and left without hesitation when he’d refuse. Others simply lost interest, finding him boring. There had been one woman he’d tried to pursue a serious relationship with, but she’d forced Iruka to choose between her and Naruto before she’d ever met the teen. The choice had been easy. But it wasn’t solely their fault things didn’t work out. Iruka would admit that his standards were woefully unrealistic. In short, the blind dates served only as a reminder of how pitiful Iruka’s love life was. 

_ You don’t have time for dating anyway.  _ That was certainly true. Iruka needed to concentrate on raising Naurto, before he could invest his time in another person. He ignored the voice in the back of his head reminding him that his happiness was just as important. He was happy, more or less. What was four more years? 

   He rounded the corner to his apartment building and wearily ascended the stairs.  _ Naruto better have started his homework,  _ Iruka thought, coming to a stop in front of his door. He could hear the television and what sounded like muffled giggles. It made him pause with his hand poised on the doorknob, suddenly uncertain. Naruto had never brought a friend home before, let alone have them over so late in the evening. Should he disturb them? Did the friend know about their situation? 

   Iruka chewed on his bottom lip for a moment before mumbling, “The Hell with it,” and throwing the door open. He regretted it. The first thing he saw was Naruto sprawled on his back on the living room floor, blonde hair disheveled and face bright red. The second thing he noticed was the dark haired boy straddling his slim hips, one hand pinning Naruto’s hand to the ground. Then he saw that the blonde’s shirt had been pushed up, stopping just below his chest, and both boy’s groins were perfectly aligned. It was a very suggestive position, and judging by the teens’ frantic flailing at being caught, they realized it too. 

   “ Iruka what- It’s not- We were just-” Naruto stammered, jolting into a seated position. 

 The brunette boy lost his balance and stumbled back with a soft thud. “Ow! Damn it Naruto!” he griped, sitting up as well.    

 “Sorry Shikamaru!” the other teen exclaimed. Both boys scrambled to their feet, awkwardly talking over one another to explain themselves. 

   Iruka, meanwhile, was internally panicking. He didn’t want to believe that he’d just walked in on his younger brother and his- boyfriend? Friend?- fooling around, but it was hard to imagine there being another explanation. That meant that he’d have no choice  _ but  _ to give Naruto the sex talk, and dear God how mortifying  _ that  _ was going to be for the two of them. And then, a  _ very  _ minute part of him was irritated that his fourteen year old brother was clearly getting action while he had to make do with his shower and imagination. 

_    Really Iruka, that’s what you’re upset about?  _ He chastised himself. Iruka cleared his throat loudly, cutting through the teenagers’ incoherent rambling. He forced back the heat rising in his neck, because there was  _ no way  _ he was going to be able to get through this if he started blushing. 

     “Boys,” he began, hoping he didn’t sound as embarrassed as he felt, “let’s just...calm down for a minute.” The two teens exchanged worried, wide eyed glances before facing him again. Iruka swallowed audibly before continuing. “I...well...that is I do apologize for walking in on-”

    “We weren’t doing anything! Honest!” Naruto blurted out. He looked at Shikamaru before shakily continuing. “We-we were doing homework, but then started goofing around right before you walked in…” he trailed off, hands fisting in his shirt. 

  Iruka nodded readily. He was so far out of his depth, and clueless as to what he was supposed to do. The sterner part of himself insisted that he call Shikamaru’s parents and tell them what he’d witnessed, but the more compassionate portion willed him to trust the boys and not tattle on the brunette teen. He didn’t know Shikamaru or what his home life was like, and the last thing he wanted to do was out a kid to potentially homophobic parents. But if the boy’s parents  _ did  _ find out and discovered that Iruka had done nothing, he could risk losing Naruto entirely.  _ You’re overcomplicating things. They said nothing was happening, and you really didn’t see anything to suggest otherwise. Just let it go.  _

__ “I believe you,” Iruka said after a long minute. Both teens exhaled heavily, relieved smiles breaking across their faces. “But,” he pressed sternly, “I do believe it’s time for Shikamaru to call his parents. It’s already after nine o’clock and I’m sure they’re looking for him.”

    Shikamaru mumbled something too low for Iruka to hear properly before pulling out his cellphone and disappearing down the hall into Naruto’s bedroom. Naruto watched him go with a peculiar look on his face before facing Iruka nervously. He chewed on his bottom lip and wrung his hands. “Iruka-”

   His words were lost when Iruka pulled him into a tight, crushing hug. “It’s okay Naruto,” he whispered against the boy’s trembling shoulders. He pulled back and met the boy’s scared gaze. “It’s normal to feel...whatever it is you're feeling for Shikamaru. You don’t have to be nervous or afraid, and I’m so sorry if I ever made you feel that I wouldn’t accept you.” It felt odd to say, considering he was a bisexual man, but he couldn’t help but feel as if maybe he’d failed in that area of parenting. Naruto was more oblivious than most boys his age, so it was possible that he’d assumed Iruka was straight.  _ Maybe I should have had that talk with him earlier. _

__  “Shikamaru doesn’t know yet.” Naruto’s eyes watered a little, and he beamed up at him. “But thanks anyway, Iruka,” he said just as Shikamaru returned. 

   He looked between the two of them, dark brown eyes resting on Naruto for a minute longer before he warily addressed Iruka. “My mom said she’d pick me up after work in about an hour. Would you mind if I stayed here until then?” 

 Iruka rolled his eyes, grinning warmly. “No I’m going to make you wait outside,” he said sarcastically, earning a reluctant chuckle from the teen. “How about I order some pizza and we watch the Walking Dead while we wait?” 

   The boys readily agreed, and that’s how Iruka found himself seated on the floor while the two teenagers sat on the couch twenty minutes later. He’d noted how it’d been Shikamaru that’d initiated the contact, making sure to press his side firmly against Naruto’s. He also hadn’t missed the brown haired teen’s fingers twitch as if to intertwine with Naruto’s, or the furtive, shy glances he threw at the blonde. Iruka thought back to Naruto’s earlier words, about Shikamaru not knowing his feelings, and it took everything in him not to laugh at the ridiculousness.  _ Teenagers.  _ The pizza arrived near the end of their first episode, and then Iruka got to witness just how ravenous both teenagers were. He made a mental note to stock the kitchen with more snacks. It’d cut into their budget a little, but he’d figure out a way to make up the difference. Shikamaru’s mother came midway through the second episode, and the teen reluctantly bid them goodnight before leaving. By then it was around eleven-thirty, and Iruka was seconds away from crashing, but he could tell that Naruto was troubled. Sleep could wait. 

      “What’s up Naruto?” Iruka asked, plopping onto the couch beside the blonde teen and lightly bumping shoulders with him.

     Naruto wound his arms around his knees and rested his chin atop them. He chewed on his bottom lip uncertainly before answering. “I can’t be with Shikamaru. Ever.” His voice broke and he sniffed tearfully.

    Iruka was taken aback by that. Did Naruto seriously think that Shikamaru didn’t like him? He’d always known the kid was oblivious, but to be that dense was ridiculous! “Why would you think that?”

    “Because he’s a literal genius and I’m...I’m an idiot,” he mumbled heartbrokenly. “The teachers say he should hang around people closer to his level, and I  _ know  _ that isn’t me.” 

    “Who gives a damn what they think?” Iruka burst out angrily. “You can be friends with whoever you want to, and they can’t stop you! They’re just busybodies with nothing better to do with their lives.” He took a deep breath to calm himself, but inside he was steaming. How dare his teachers say such things? Even if they thought it, it was highly unprofessional to say so in front of students. “Listen to me Naruto,” he said, “if you like Shikamaru, and he likes you then there is no reason you can’t hang out together. And you are  _ not  _ an idiot. Do you think I care that you don’t make straight A's? As long as you’re doing  _ your  _ best and applying yourself, I can be happy. So don’t ever call yourself stupid or an idiot again, got it?”

    Naruto laughed and wiped at his eyes. “Shikamaru was right,” he laughed, leaning in for a hug. 

  Iruka squeezed him until Naruto wriggled in his grasp. “Right about what?” 

  “That I’m lucky to have a brother as awesome as you.”

* * *

 

 If Iruka’d thought that the next morning was going to be as pleasant as the previous night, he’d have been sorely mistaken. He’d gotten up earlier than usual with the intention of making Naruto breakfast, but that plan had backfired. Iruka had tried to coax him out of bed for almost half an hour, and when that had failed, he’d unceremoniously flipped the teen off the mattress. That had lead to copious amount of whiny bitching on Naruto’s part, and furious bellowing on Iruka’s. They’d spent the rest of the morning bickering, leaving Iruka more than a little agitated by the time he got to the hospital. 

  Iruka wrinkled his nose when he stepped into the building. The main lobby was already filled with expectant patients, and bordering on chaotic. Children were wailing at the top of their lungs; nurses were rushing about trying to maintain order; and a small throng of impatient patients and visitors crowded around the registration desk arguing with the desk attendee. The place reeked of sweat and dirt, not what one would expect in a hospital. One man coughed a foul looking yellow liquid into his palm, some of it slipping through his fingers and dripping to the floor. He really hated hospitals. 

   Rather than getting mixed up in the overzealous crowd, (a security guard had begun eyeing them none too discreetly), Iruka found a vacant seat to fall into. He pulled out his phone and dialed Kurenai’s number to at least let her know that he was there. He could skip the line if she were already in Asuma’s room.

  “Hello?” Kurenai answered, slightly out of breath. 

   “Hey, it’s Iruka. I thought I’d let you know that-” he heard a loud clattering followed by a high pitched wail on the other end of the line. “Is everything okay?!” he asked, alarmed. 

Kurenai groaned miserably. “As my mother so helpfully put it, Mirai is experiencing her “terrible twos”.  This is the fourth tantrum she’s thrown this week!” 

    Iruka grimaced. “I think Naruto is going through something similar,” he grouched. “We can trade if you want.”

  She snorted at that. “And what, have a head of gray hairs by next year? I’ll pass.” Mirai shouted out on the other end of the line again, this time much closer and shriller. “I said  _ no  _ young lady! Do you want to go into time out again?” He couldn’t understand her babbled response, but Kurenai’s threat must have settled the toddler. “Anyway,” she continued, “what did you call for? Not that I mind hearing from you, it’s just that you don’t normally call this early.”

   That was true. Normally Iruka was already at work at the bakery, and he’d called around lunch time in the past. “Oh, well I was just letting you know that I’m visiting Asuma today, and I-”

  “Don’t go see him,” Kurenai interjected. Her voice had softened, though the words were still sharp. “If I’d known that you were going to see him today I would have told you before you went all the way there.” 

   Iruka stiffened. “You would have told me what?” he demanded. Had something happened to Asuma? He hadn’t been notified of any complications, and he was up to date on his payments. “Kurenai?” he repeated after a minute of baited silence. 

   Kurenai sucked in a shaky breath before answering. “I spoke with Asuma’s case worker yesterday. The neurologist and pulmonologist recently examined him, and…” she paused and took another deep breath, “...from what they’ve discovered, his lungs and brain were damaged more than they’d originally thought.”

 “Kurenai-”

  “If-if he does wake up, they doubt he’d ever be able to breathe normally again.” Her voice trembled and she sounded close to tears. 

   “It’s okay, just-”

  She ignored him, pressing on. “They’re also worried that his brain function will be impaired too. He had a mild seizure during the examination-”

   “Kurenai,” Iruka said forcefully. “Calm down, and take a deep breath. You don’t want to upset Mirai.” He swallowed around the lump that had risen in his throat and chest. “I’m sure the doctors had a solution right? What are our options?” 

  Kurenai sniffed and cleared her throat. “They can try to remove and repair the damaged tissue, but they won’t know if it worked until he wakes up.” She paused to clear her throat again. “They-they also suggested that I consider...that I…” her voice broke and Iruka heard her sob softly. 

    It didn’t take long for Iruka to connect the pieces and figure out what Kurenai had been unable to say. _They want her to pull the plug._ The force of his own realization swiftly forced the breath from his lungs, as if he’d been suckerpunched in the gut. He curled in on himself and gasped out for air. _Asuma…_ tears sprung to his eyes, hot and furious. _How dare they? How_ ** _dare_** _they?_ He wanted to scream and rage against the doctors that’d suggested they do such a thing, to the hospital director, to God for doing this to them. Yet his limbs wouldn’t cooperate. It felt as if he were sinking into the Earth, and the harder he tried to scrabble out, the tighter it sucked him down. 

    And then Kurenai’s strong, yet tearful voice was cutting through the haze of anger and pain. “I told them I’d need time to think about it.” 

   He nodded numbly, and then remembered that Kurenai couldn’t see him. “I-I see,” he whispered lamely. 

   “I’m so sorry, Iruka,” Kurenai lamented. “I just didn’t want you to see him until I’d talked to you. He doesn’t look good, and I know how much you stress about him and I-”

   “It’s alright Kurenai.”  _ Things are far from alright.  _ He thought about Hiruzen, who’d died just a little over a year prior, and now they may have to bury Asuma as well. Mirai would grow up without a father. Kurenai would lose her husband, and chances were slim that she’d date seriously afterwards. Iruka would lose a brother, the first “sibling” he’d ever had. And Naruto...the teen would blame himself for Asuma’s death, and Iruka doubted anyone other than Asuma himself could convince him otherwise. So no, things were not alright, but he wasn’t going to make it harder on Kurenai. She needed him. 

 “Listen,” he continued after a minute, “how about we discuss this in person? I can bring Naruto and he could watch Mirai while we talk things over. Maybe together we can...figure things out.” 

  Kurenai sniffed again before replying. “That sounds fine.  Let’s try getting together this weekend if you don’t have any clients.” 

   Iruka readily agreed. Mizuki hadn’t scheduled him for anything apart from that afternoon, not that it’d matter. Asuma was more important. “Well then, I guess I better go put Mirai down for a nap. I’ll talk to you later, Iruka.”

  “See you Kurenai.” Iruka ended the call and stuffed his phone back into his pocket. His hands continued to shake. His throat ached. His eyes had welled over, light tears sliding down his tanned cheeks. He chest hollowed. Hopelessness cloaked his shoulders. Despair and grief rubbed soothingly at his back. This was what it felt like to stand on the precipice yet again, and watch everything you ever loved disperse like dust in the wind. It was a feeling he’d become all too familiar with.

* * *

 

To his credit, Iruka really tried to make it to the meeting on time. Granted, he’d taken a few minutes to compose himself after talking with Kurenai, but he’d jumped on the first bus he possibly could to make it to the Business District. He would have made it with minutes to spare if it hadn’t been for the rambunctious group of teenagers that’d gotten on (they’d all received an intimidating lecture for their behavior); or the elderly woman that’d needed help carrying her groceries (he couldn’t very well leave her to carry them herself). He’d known that he’d messed up when Kakashi called asking about his whereabouts. He hadn’t recognized the number at first, but the velvety, deep timber was unmistakable. (That voice had been present in his fantasies more than once recently.)  Iruka had apologized and promised that’d he’d be there in five minutes...and then traffic had come to a complete standstill. Iruka’d had no choice but to get off the bus and run to their destination; and that was how he somehow managed to barrel into Kakashi, knocking them both to the ground in a semi-crowded eatery. 

      Iruka swallowed audibly, staring down into angry, steel gray eyes. “Um, hi?” he said with a nervous laugh. 

  He was sprawled atop Kakashi, their bodies slotted together. His steady heartbeat clashed with Iruka’s rabbiting pulse. Their faces were less than an inch apart, their breaths mingling. Kakashi’s hands held his hips in a firm, but nonrestricive hold. The heat pouring from his body sent a pleasurable shiver up Iruka’s spine. Kakashi seemed to be waiting for something, his sinfully pink lips pursed expectantly. For one wild minute Iruka considered leaning in to taste them, and he probably would have, had Kakashi not chosen that moment to lose his temper and make another ass of himself.

    “Hi?” Kakashi shoved Iruka none too gently off of him and climbed to his feet. He glared down his nose at Iruka. “You said five minutes. What the fuck were you doing?”

   Iruka stood as well, aware of the strange stares they were getting. “It wasn’t intentional I swear. There was a lot traffic coming out of the hospital district so-”

   “That’s the best excuse you can come up with? Traffic? Un-fucking-believable!” He shook his head. 

   Two men passed, looking curiously between Iruka and Kakashi, and they weren’t the only ones.  _ Fucking perfect.  _ The last thing he’d wanted to do was cause a scene. “Mr. Hatake-”

 “Do you realize how important it is for us to negotiate and close this deal? Do you have  _ any  _ idea how much this product is worth?” 

   “Well excuse me if getting to and from the hospital is a bit more challenging for those of us without a fucking car. What was I supposed to do, drive the damn bus myself?” Iruka he replied waspishly. The last thing he needed was a lecture. “Look, I’m sorry I was late. My brother-”

    Kakashi cut across him. “Last time I checked  _ you  _ are under  _ my  _ employ until we close this deal, so when I tell you to be somewhere at a specific time you be there. Let’s make that  _ perfectly  _ clear. No excuses.”

   Iruka’s temper snapped, and his hand fisted in Kakashi’s collar before he could fully process what he was doing. “Let’s get one thing clear,” he spat venomously.“You  _ don’t _ own me. You think being an escort makes me your property? That you can treat me like shit and I have to take it?” 

  Kakashi’s glower didn’t waver. He pushed Iruka away and adjusted his tie. “As far as I’m concerned, you do,” he said coldly.

  Iruka snorted and rolled his eyes. “Of course you would! You’re nothing but an entitled asshole without an ounce of respect for anyone other than himself!” He could feel the other patrons’ stares on his back, but he was too worked up to care. 

 “I respect those who earn it,” the other man countered. 

 “Correction: you respect those that you consider valuable, and an escort isn’t worth anything to you. Or maybe you hate me because I entertain other men.” Iruka said. 

    Kakashi looked momentarily stricken before composing himself. “That isn’t-”

“Well let me clue you in on something,” Iruka continued louder. “I didn’t become an escort because I wanted to. I put up with dickheads like you for my brother, and if that somehow makes me unworthy of your respect, then it’s not worth having.” 

   Kakashi’s expression was unreadable, somewhere between pitying and angry. His eyes bore into Iruka’s much as they had the first time they’d met. Iruka found himself unwittingly drawn into their icy depths, and he would have drowned in them if his phone hadn’t decided to chirp right at that moment. 

     He dug his phone from his back pocket and glared at the little notification from Naruto’s teacher. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Iruka growled softly. Would  _ nothing  _ go right today? “I have to go,” he said hurriedly, turning and leaving without waiting for a response. 

  
  


 

  
  


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So my beta text-yelled at me for the cliffhanger XD. Sorry dudes!!! (not really) But I hope you guys liked it, and as usual feel free to comment and let me know your thoughts! I'm gonna do my absolute best to get a new chapter out as soon as possible, but don't hate me if it takes a little while! :3


	7. Seven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HI EVERYONE! I know I know it's been a looooong time since the last update, but don't worry the story is not abandoned! The semester got super busy out of nowhere, but finals are officially over so I can focus on writing again! My beta and I will be working super hard to get as many chapters out as possible over winter break, so keep an eye out for updates. And thank you so so so much for everyone that left kudos and comments. I'm glad you still enjoy the story. :)

  There were three distinct types of situations Kakashi found himself in: ones he meticulously planned and analyzed to the last detail; ones where he had limited control, but could hold his own; and moments where his brain said “fuck it” and he mindlessly reacted. His decision to bolt after Iruka Umino, was definitely one of the latter. He’d wanted to kick himself as he watched Iruka stomp away, and that had somehow lead to him following the brunette out of the restaurant and onto the semi-crowded street. It wasn’t difficult to pick the younger man out of the crowd; he stuck out like a sore thumb amidst the throng of uptight business men. 

  Kakashi made to catch up to him, his mind racing. What was he  _ doing?  _ And more importantly,  _ why?  _ What good would come of chasing Iruka down when he was clearly pissed?  Kakashi doubted he’d be able to persuade Iruka to accept an apology, no matter how sincere. Loathe as he was to admit it, he’d gone too far. Yeah, he’d been pissed that Iruka was late, but he hadn’t meant to yell at or humiliate the younger man. His mouth had run faster than his mind could process his thoughts, and before he knew it he’d crossed the line. Honestly, how could he justify calling Iruka his  _ property?  _

  He pushed that thought away as he finally got close enough to grab Iruka’s wrist. He may not be able to justify his actions, but he could at least  _ try  _ to get the other man to consider forgiving him. “Iruka wai-”

  Kakashi didn’t see the slap coming until it was too late, and Iruka’s hand collided with his left cheek. His head snapped to the side from the force of it, face throbbing.  “You slapped me,” he said. He blinked owlishly at the brunette, more surprised than angry.

  Iruka was glaring furiously at him, his face flushed a delicious shade of red. He jerked his hand from Kakshi’s limp grip. “Yes I did. And the next time you touch me, I’ll do a lot more,” he spat, spinning on his heels to stalk away. 

   Again, it should be noted that this was one of those moments where Kakashi seemed incapable of rational thought. He processed Iruka’s warning, and somewhat acknowledged that aggravating him further would end unpleasantly...and then he grabbed Iruka’s wrist. He was prepared for the slap this time and deftly caught Iruka’s hand before it struck him. “Iruka just wait a-”

  “I said don’t touch me!” Iruka grunted, kicking Kakashi in the shin. He tried to pull away again, but Kakashi’s grip hadn’t loosened this time. “Let go!” he snarled, kicking out again. 

   To his credit, Kakashi didn’t cry out at the sharp pain that shot up his leg, but his eyes did water a little. It didn’t help that his face still stung either. He’d be lucky if he didn’t walk away from this black and blue. Iruka, for his part, seemed determined to do just that in his bid to escape. 

 Mind you, it hadn’t yet occurred to either of them that they were in the middle of a public sidewalk, having a not too civil disagreement. Kakashi would later admit that perhaps his judgement hadn’t been the best right then, especially when another man stepped in to push the two men apart.

    “Alright that’s enough. He said let go,” the stranger said. He placed his body directly between the two of them, hiding Iruka from view. It shouldn’t have been as infuriating as it was.

  Kakashi narrowed his eyes at the stranger, sizing him up. He was maybe half an inch taller and broad shouldered. He had an impressive array of scars crisscrossing his face, and dark intelligent eyes. There was a foreboding, intimidating presence about the man, and it only served to make Kakashi’s hackles rise.

  “We were just having a conversation,” Kakashi said, careful to keep the edge from his voice. 

  Judging by the man’s quirked eyebrow, he didn’t do a very good job. “It didn’t look like much of a conversation.” He crossed his arms over his chest and spared a glance back at Iruka, who thankfully hadn’t left. “It looked more like harrassment if you ask me.”

   “No one did.”  _ Fucking Hell, are you trying to get your ass kicked?  _ His mouth continued to move even as he lamented his piss poor social skills. Kakashi really hated not thinking things through. “You should mind your own business.”

   To his surprise, the taller man laughed, but there was a dark undertone to it. “Unfortunately for you, this kind of thing  _ is  _ my business. And trust me when I say, I’m not as nice when it’s my day off.” He turned to face Iruka. “Did you want to file a complaint, kid?” 

  Iruka hesitated, eyes widening. “You’re a cop?” he said faintly.

  The other man nodded and pulled a badge out of his back pocket. “Ibiki Morino, homicide detective, though I don’t mind taking care of the everyday asshole when I can.” He cast Kakashi a dark look over his shoulder before facing Iruka again. “Would you like me to do that?”

  Kakashi felt his stomach sink.  _  You’ve got to be kidding me.  _ If Tsunade was going to beat him before, she was going to slaughter him now. He knew his position as her right hand man was precarious at best, and hinged heavily on the public perception of him and the company. If the board caught wind that he was arrested, he may as well kiss his career goodbye. Kakashi looked back at the brunette, who hadn’t immediately answered.

   “That isn’t necessary,” Iruka said after a minute, eyes darting to meet Kakashi’s.   

 If Ibiki was surprised by Iruka’s answer, he didn’t show it. “Are you sure? You don’t have to be afraid of retaliation or anything.” Again, he glared at Kakashi.  

 Iruka nodded and motioned in Kakashi’s direction. “This is just a misunderstanding. I’m sorry to have caused you trouble.” He scratched nervously at the nape of his neck, expression unreadable.

  Ibiki obviously didn’t believe him, but there wasn’t anymore he could do if Iruka didn’t want to pursue anything. He pressed a card into the shorter man’s hands. “Don’t hesitate to call. I’d rather not have to see you under...other circumstances.” He clapped Iruka on the shoulder and threw Kakashi another warning glance before stalking away.

  Kakashi and Iruka stood staring at one another for a long minute. The throbbing in his cheek had ebbed, but his shin had begun to ache horribly. He’d probably have a limp for the next few days.  _ Iruka did warn you not to touch him.  _ Kakashi would make sure to heed his warning next time.  

   When it became apparent that Iruka was not to going to be the first to break the silence, Kakashi loudly cleared his throat. “I guess I should thank you for not having me arrested,” he said. He winced, realizing how sarcastic that sounded even too his own ears. “What I meant to say was-”

   “I didn’t do it for you,” Iruka interrupted. He crossed his arms over his chest and fixed Kakashi with a blank stare. “It’s not as if it would have mattered anyway. We both know that you can afford the best lawyers in town without breaking a sweat. They’d have you off scott free within hours.”

  “That’s pretty presumptuous of you,” Kakashi said, stuffing his hands into his pockets. 

   Iruka raised an eyebrow. “Tell me I’m wrong,” he challenged. Kakashi didn’t bother lying. “Thought so.” 

   Kakashi shrugged. “You still could have had the pleasure of seeing me in handcuffs.” Jesus what was  _ wrong  _ with him. That came out way more suggestive than intended. 

   Iruka’s cheeks reddened and looked somewhere over Kakshi’s shoulders. “I really doubt that,” he said unconvincingly. Kakashi bit back a smirk, not wanting to irritate him. After a minute Iruka cleared his throat and met Kakashi’s eyes again. “What did you want with me? And make it quick; I have something important to do.”

_ Ah, the hard part.  _ “I wanted to apologize for my behavior. It was uncalled for, and I shouldn’t have treated you that way.” Kakashi paused to gauge Iruka’s reaction before continuing. “I understand if you don’t accept it, but-”

  “Good, because I don’t,” Iruka deadpanned. 

    Kakashi was taken aback by the brusque, cold reply. “What?”

    “I don’t accept your apology,” Iruka said, enunciating each word slowly as if Kakashi was incapable of understanding him. At Kakashi’s incredulous expression, he continued with an exasperated sigh. “The first time I could have forgiven you. In fact, I kind of already did after I’d punched you. I realized that you’d been drinking well before I showed up, so chances were you were drunk and didn’t mean  _ everything  _ you’d said, but this time was different. You were sober, and you still took it upon yourself to humiliate me.” 

  Kakashi swallowed. “Iruka-” he faltered. What could he possibly say? Nothing he said would change Iruka’s mind, he could tell by the stubborn set of the other man’s jaw and the fire burning in his brown eyes. The fucked up part of it all was that he hadn’t been as drunk that first night as Iruka assumed. He’d been tipsy at best. No, he was just an asshole. 

 “I don’t hate you, if that’s any consolation,” Iruka offered. “Truthfully I just think you need help. You’re using those around you as emotional punching bags, and it’s not okay. I don’t know if therapy will help or not, but you should get some help before you lose everyone that gives a damn about you.”

   Kakashi didn’t respond, and Iruka didn’t stay. He watched the brunette disappear around the corner, most likely to the bus stop. This time he did not follow. He stood rooted to the spot, replaying the last half hour in his mind over and over as if he could glean something new from it.  Finally, when his knees began to hurt from standing for so long, he stiffly made his way back to his car.  _ Just forget him. Why does it even matter if he accepts your apology or not?  _  He didn’t have the answer.

* * *

 

 “We’re going to have to talk about this eventually,” Iruka said for the fifth time. He sat his fork beside his plate and fixed Naruto with a hard stare. “I don’t think you realize how serious this is.”

 By “this”, he meant the mountain of trouble Naruto had managed to get into earlier that day. Iruka had mostly calmed down by the time he’d arrived at Naruto’s school, though he was a bit apprehensive. True to his fears, Naruto  _ had  _ gotten in trouble, this time for fighting with Sasuke in the boy’s locker room. To make matters worse, both teens refused to cooperate, resulting in them being suspended for a week and banned from school activities for the rest of the semester. Iruka spent the rest of the afternoon trying (vainly he might add) to get the blonde teenager to talk about it.

   Naruto, who hadn’t given any indication that he was listening, continued to eat in pointed silence. Well, push his food around his plate was a better way to describe what he was doing. He’d barely touched any of his chicken despite Iruka’s prodding, and didn’t look as if he would either. His nonchalance and silence was beginning to grate on Iruka’s nerves. After everything else that had happened that day, the last thing he wanted to deal with was a moody teenager. 

   “Naruto,” he tried again, “if something happened-”

   “Would you just  _ drop it  _ already?!” Naruto bit out, stabbing at his chicken. “I don’t want to talk about it, so stop  _ asking _ .”

     Iruka bit his lip to stop from immediately lashing out.  _ He’s a teenager- yelling at him will only make things worse,  _ he reminded himself. “I understand, but we still have to discuss it,” he said carefully. “I just want to make sure that you’re okay.”

   Naruto scowled and pushed his plate away. “And I said I'm fine, so just let it go.” 

   Iruka clenched his jaw and took a steadying breath.  _ You were just as bad when you were his age.  _ Yeah, and Hiruzen had laid into him more than once for it. “And as your guardian I can't do that. You're going to tell me why you and Sasuke got into a fight.  _ Now,”  _ he said. 

    Naruto glared at him across the table.His lips were pressed into a hard thin line, and his cheeks were tinged red. His eyes, normally warm and inviting, were cold and guarded. “Sasuke asked me to _ ,”  _ he ground out. 

   “Sasuke  _ asked  _ you to hit him?” Iruka repeated in disbelief. He searched Naruto’s face for any hint that he was lying, but found nothing. “Why would he do that? More importantly, why would you  _ agree?”  _

   “I didn’t agree, and I don’t know why he asked,” he said, looking away. “Satisfied now?” 

    Iruka sat back in his seat and crossed his arms over his chest with a long sigh. “No, I’m not, but if you’re that determined to lie to me, I guess we can move on to your punishment. You’re grounded for a month: no tv, no computer, and no going over to Shikamaru’s house. You’re to come straight home after school unless you have tutoring, and your teacher has to notify me before hand. Am I understood?” 

   Naruto opened his mouth to protest, but stopped and closed it. “Fine,” he said before angrily stomping to his room. His bedroom door slammed closed a second later. 

   Iruka groaned and rubbed at his temples _. Teenagers._ If this was any indication of the way he’d been as a teen, then he took back everything he’d ever said about Hiruzen being a hard ass. Lord knows Iruka hadn't made it easy for his adoptive father. Were it anyone else, he would have found himself back in an orphanage. 

_ I never even thanked him.  _ Iruka squeezed his eyes shut and let out a shaky breath.  _ Get it together Umino. No need to get all emotional.  _ He shook his head and shoved the thoughts away. The last thing he wanted to do was make himself sick with grief. The day had been emotionally draining enough already, what with everything going on with Asuma and- 

   “Shit.” He’d forgotten to tell Naruto. Iruka stood from the table and made to start the hall, but stopped. Was it even worth telling him right then? Nothing had been set in stone, after all, so there really wasn’t a reason to worry him.  _ He won’t be happy that you kept it from him.  _ Naruto hated being the last to know anything, especially when it concerned someone he cared about. Iruka chewed on his bottom lip, weighing his options. His feet moved on their own and he found himself standing in front of the teenager’s door, one fist poised to knock. Then he heard the telltale sound of Naruto whispering, most likely taking his last opportunity to talk to Shikamaru before his punishment began. Iruka sighed and returned to the kitchen. He’d wait until he knew more, then he’d tell Naruto. It may even be worth having Kurenai there as support. 

    He made quick work of putting away the leftovers, resolving to wash the dishes before his shift at the bakery in the morning. It had been a taxing day, and his bed had never been more appealing. Iruka fell face first onto his it with a groan and crawled under the blankets. He didn’t even care that he was still wearing his street clothes. He let his eyes fall shut and sighed contentedly.  _ Tomorrow will be better. It has to be.  _

   Iruka succumbed to sleep with ease. He didn’t hear his phone chime, indicating an incoming message. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Next chapter coming soon! :3


	8. Eight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HI EVERYONE. It's certainly been awhile and I apologize for that, but I had to focus on getting healthy. I wanted to thank my beta for being so supportive during this time and helping me get this story rolling again. She's really amazing and I love her to death! Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy and again I'm so sorry about the wait!

  When Kotetsu and Izumo begged him to go out with them Friday evening after work, Iruka should have suspected that the couple was up to something. They’d exchanged conspiratory grins all morning, and he’d caught them whispering with their heads pressed close together more than once. They hadn’t accepted any of his half-hearted excuses and badgered him until he’d given in. He regretted that now. They’d only just arrived when Izumo shoved him into their “friend” Matt’s arms and disappeared seconds later with Kotetsu in tow. 

  A weight pressed heavily against his side and warm breath ghosted over his neck. “Sorry I took so long,” Matt yelled too close to his ear, “the bar was more crowded than expected.” He held up two beers and extended one to Iruka. “Kotetsu said you aren’t much of a drinker, but I figured beer would be okay.”

_ How thoughtful of him,  _ Iruka thought, turning a fake smile on the man. “Thanks” he said and took the offered drink. “How much do I owe you for this?” 

  Matt beamed, displaying two rows of brilliantly white teeth, and inclined his head towards the dance floor. “How about you pay me with a dance?” 

  “Oh...um…” Iruka hesitated, and took a long drink in lieu of answer. He was a terrible dancer, possibly the worst in human history. He’d probably hurt himself or someone else flailing around to the beat. 

 The apprehension must have shown clearly on his face because the next second Matt was leaning in closer, a “comforting” hand on his hip. “Don’t worry about anyone watching. Just keep your eyes on me.”

   The line was obviously meant to be suave, yet it took everything in Iruka not to roll his eyes. “What about our beers?” he tried. 

   Matt laughed and finished his in three impressive gulps. “Your turn.” 

   Iruka groaned internally.  _ This guy can’t take a hint can he?  _ Squeezing his eyes closed tightly, he tried to imitate Matt and ended up choking by the second swallow. Yeah he really wasn’t cut out for this. Luckily Matt seemed to take pity on him, and Iruka watched through teary eyes as the other man finished off his beer as well. 

  “Ready?” he offered his hand with a crooked, and kind of cute, smile. 

 “Sure,” he agreed, allowing Matt to drag him away from the bar.  _ At least he’s good looking.  _ And it was true: Matt  _ was  _ handsome, with windswept black hair and warm sea green eyes framed with thick lashes. He was stockier than Iruka would prefer, but it suited him more than it would many other men his height. So far he’d been kind, maybe a little on the dorky side, but kind nonetheless. Iruka could see why Izumo and Kotetsu thought they’d be a good match, he just wasn’t interested. 

  “Hey, I said no worrying,” Matt pouted, flicking the tip of Iruka’s nose. His hands slipped to Iruka’s hips, pulling their bodies together. “Focus on me, sweetheart.” 

   Iruka blushed furiously, both at the feel of Matt’s muscled body against his own and the endearment. They began rocking gently to the rhythm, Matt leading with the confidence of a man that knew exactly what he was doing. His grip, while firm, was still loose enough for Iruka to pull away if he wanted. At least he hoped that were the case, because even as one song transitioned into the next he couldn’t relax into Matt’s embrace. He couldn’t explain why, only that it felt awkward and weird.

_  It’s a one time thing, no strings attached. Would you just stop and enjoy it already?  _ Iruka swallowed and leaned a little more into Matt, his heart thrumming louder than the pounding beat of the music. He wound his arms around the other man’s shoulders and meekly met his eyes. A slow, pleased smile broke over Matt’s face and he moved closer still, until there was almost no space between them. His hands had begun to wander now as well: one now at the small of Iruka’s back, holding them together; and the other sliding up to caress Iruka’s neck, fingers nimbly playing with the loose hair at the nape. Their faces were a hairsbreadth apart now too, and up close Iruka could count the freckles on Matt’s face, smell his soap and cologne, practically taste the alcohol and mint on his breath. It was intoxicating. His head was swimming, and his knees were practically buckling under him. Iruka swallowed a lump in his throat, the scarlet flush quickly spreading. When was the last time he’d been this close to another person, close enough to feel every tick of their heartbeat? Lips ghosted over Iruka’s neck, sending a shiver up his spine. He gasped softly, fingers digging into Matt’s shoulders.  _ Too long,  _ he thought,  _ way too long.  _

    Matt smirked and continued to press kisses against his skin. “Is this okay?” he murmured. Iruka could only nod, not trusting his voice. He ignored the voice saying  _ no.  _ That was all the permission Matt needed. He nibbled at a sensitive spot just behind Iruka’s ear, making the brunette arch against him and groan low in his chest. Matt made a pleased sound before coming up and hungrily capturing Iruka’s lips. He hesitantly responded, feeling awkward and uncoordinated in comparison, but still as enthusiastically as possible to make up for it. Matt hummed appreciatively and continued to devour him. He kept Iruka impossibly close, swaying their bodies to the throbbing bass of the music while turning him to a quivering mess. He grew bolder and reached down to cup Iruka’s ass while grinding against him. 

    Iruka pulled away, telling himself that the need to breathe was more important than Matt’s talented tongue. “W-wait a second,” he stammered. His pulse was racing, and suddenly he felt too hot and itchy in his own skin. Yeah, it’d definitely been too long since he’d had any intimacy, and it was overwhelming how sensitive and easily responsive his body was. He needed a minute to clear his head before he did something he’d regret later, like sleep with a guy he barely found attractive. 

   “Is something wrong?” Matt asked, leaning close again. “Do you want to leave?” Iruka just nodded and let the other man lead them off the dance floor. He pulled them over to a small booth tucked away in a corner and gently pushed Iruka into it. “Stay here for a second. I’m gonna try to find Kotetsu for you.” 

    Iruka sank deeper into the booth and watched Matt disappear into the crowd.  _ So much for their master plan to get me laid,  _ he thought bitterly. There was no chance the other man would want to sleep with him now. A part of him felt ridiculous for reacting that way to a little touching. They hadn’t done anything the couples around them weren’t doing, and some were more explicit than others. Still, he hadn’t been able to shake off how utterly  _ wrong _ it felt, and he didn’t know why _.  _ He buried his head in his arms, sighing.  _ It wouldn’t have gone anywhere anyway.  _

 Matt returned a moment later, carrying two beers and looking decidedly put out. “I couldn’t find them,” he said, sliding into the booth. He sat their drinks on the table and slung an arm around Iruka’s shoulders. “Are you feeling any better, or would you still like to leave?”

_ Figures they’d leave. Traitors.  _ “I’m fine,” Iruka said after a minute. “I’m just not used to…” he trailed off uncertainly. He couldn’t justify freaking out like he had when they’d barely touched. “I guess my nerves got the best of me.”  _ Way to make yourself sound pathetic.  _

   “There’s nothing wrong with that you know,” Matt replied. He cradled Iruka’s face and gently stroked his cheek with the pad of his thumb. “I get it, honestly. We can slow down a bit: have a few drinks, dance some more, and then I’ll take you home. There doesn’t have to be anything else yet.” 

  Matt’s words were sweet, and exactly what he needed to hear, yet his stomach was still a mass of twinding knots. He was overwhelmingly aware of their proximity, Matt’s cologne, and the heat seeping into his skin where Matt’s hand held his face and braced against his hip. Iruka swallowed, feeling so out of depth. He should say no and go home, because there wouldn’t be anything else between them. He should pay Matt back for the drinks he’d bought him and leave him without any illusions of their being a second date. That was the responsible thing to do, and yet as Matt leaned forward and gave him a chaste kiss...

  “Well? What do you say, Iruka?” he whispered, eyes steadily holding his gaze.

_ No.  _ “Y-yeah,” Iruka replied. He pulled away and took a large gulp of his beer before hastily leaning in to press his lips against Matt’s. The kiss was sloppy, but Matt didn’t seem to mind. He ignored the knots growing in his stomach. It would be fine. Everything would be fine.

* * *

 

 

      “You shouldn’t mope Kakashi; you did this to yourself, ” Tenzou said, biting back a smirk. 

       Kakashi glared at him. “I still fail to see what I did wrong here. We got the contract made, didn’t we?” he grumbled. 

     Tenzou took a long drag from his cigarette and leaned against the brick wall. “Yeah, but you disobeyed Tsuande and acted like a royal asshole to that kid again. Not to mention you were almost arrested for harassing him. You’re lucky she’s only making you work in accounting as punishment.”

   “Yeah, well  _ you’re _ not the one that has to be at Anko’s personal slave for the next two weeks,” Kakashi griped. He ran a hand through his hair and sighed deeply. “Honestly, why does Tsunade even  _ care?  _ It wasn’t as if I  _ meant  _ to act that way. And I apologized more than once! He’s the one that wouldn’t accept it.” 

  The brunette shrugged. “To be honest I don’t think she cares so much about Iruka, but more that it makes the company look bad if you’re mistreating escorts, especially on-”

   “If Tsunade’s so concerned about the company image, then she shouldn’t hire escorts  _ at all,”  _ Kakashi snapped. 

  “And that makes your behavior okay?” Tenzou demanded. 

   “I did nothing wrong!” 

    Tenzou huffed and tossed his cigarette onto the ground. “If you really believed that, you wouldn’t be standing out here brooding like a guy that’s just gotten dumped,” he said, stamping the remnants into the concrete. 

      Kakashi grit his teeth and turned away. “Fuck off,” he snapped, shoving his hands into his pocket. “I don’t understand why this matters anymore.”

    The other man fixed him with a tired, agitated glare. “Because it wasn’t Iruka’s choice in the first place. Anko and I set the two of you up together-”

     “You did  _ what?”  _ Kakashi blanched. Tenzou continued speaking as if Kakashi hadn’t interrupted him. 

    “-because we thought it would be good for the both of you. I didn’t know Iruka, but Anko does, and swore that he was a good kid that needed a distraction just as much as you did. I wasn’t sure at first, but then I met him and it seemed like Anko was on to something, but you-”

    “What the fuck is wrong with you two?” Kakashi growled, pushing off of the wall. His hands curled into fists at his side. “You had no right to-”

   “We had every damn right!” Tenzou bit out, stepping into Kakashi’s space. “You were drinking yourself to death and nothing,  _ nothing  _ we said or did made a difference! Ever since Obito-”

    Kakashi’s hands moved of their own accord, and before he could fully process what he was doing, his fingers closed around Tenzou’s throat and he visciously slammed him against the brick wall. “Don’t. You. Dare.” he spat out between gritted teeth. His chest was heaving, and that all too familiar feeling of emptiness and guilt began gnawing at him from the inside out. “He has nothing to do with this.”

   “Obito has everything to do with this,” Tenzou whispered back fiercely. “You haven’t been the same since he died, and I know its hard for you right now, but what you’ve become- what you’re  _ doing  _ to yourself- isn’t going to make it better.”

    “And throwing a fucking stranger in my bed will?” Kakashi demanded. “What did you think was going to happen that night? That I’d take him home and have my way with him? That we’d fall in love and run away together? Tell me: was my reaction really that much of a surprise to you?” 

     Tenzou sighed and shook his head. “You did exactly what I expected you to do that night-”

   “Exactly!” Kakashi let go of his shirt and stepped away. “So if you knew-” 

   “But you apologized on your own,” the brunette continued. “Even after he said he wanted nothing to do with you, you texted him apologizing. Yeah you may have been drunk when you did it, but it was still an apology.” Tenzou straightened, but remained against the wall. “I know you well enough to know that you wouldn’t have done that if it didn’t bother you.”

    Kakashi didn’t have a rebuttal for that. To be honest he couldn’t remember much at all from the previous night, just that he’d gotten home late and had decided to have a couple drinks. He vaguely remembered Tenzou and Gai coming over at some point, but he had no recollection of texting Iruka at all. Admittedly he’d been a ball of nerves waiting for a response from the brunette, but it had never come. He couldn’t say that he’d realistically expected one either. 

   “Just let it go Tenzou...please,” Kakashi sighed after a moment. He really didn’t want to talk about it anymore, at least not then. He was angry and frustrated. Tenzou and Anko may have meant well, but things had gone too far. He ignored the voice whispering that  _ he  _ had been the one to actually make the situation worse. He’d deal with that after he’d had more time to think. 

   “I’ll see you at the office.” He walked away before the other man could reply. For a moment he thought that Tenzou would follow, but a quick glance over his shoulder revealed an empty alcove and the pungent odor of cigarette smoke. 

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed the chapter! please comment what you think! :3


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